


Yvette, the Vampire Slayer - Arc 1

by TheSovereigntyofReality



Series: The Belmont Slayer [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Artistic License, Crossover, Demons, F/M, Series Rewrite, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 47,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22314070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSovereigntyofReality/pseuds/TheSovereigntyofReality
Summary: A series rewrite which merges the world of Castlevania and the World of BtVS.Let's be honest, a family of demon hunters would be the perfect place to hide a Slayer.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya & Dracula Vlad Tepes | Mathias Cronqvist, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya & Lisa, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya & Original Character(s), Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya & Trevor Belmont & Sypha Belnades, Dracula/Lisa (Castlevania), Sypha Belnades & Original Character(s), Trevor Belmont & Original Character(s), Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Series: The Belmont Slayer [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700197
Comments: 73
Kudos: 76





	1. The new Slayer

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: If you recognise it from somewhere else, it isn't mine.**
> 
> There are a considerable number of OCs in this story but, for the most part, they hang around in the background.
> 
> It also includes a personal headcanon of mine.

**Wallachia, 1103**  
‘Belmont, eh?’ Law threw his head back and drained the tankard. ‘Sounds French. What are they doing in Wallachia?’

‘Maybe they moved here for some reason.’ Eliza was in the process of filing her nails. ‘But that’s the girl’s name: Yvette Belmont.’

‘Well, that is definitely French.’ Law looked over at her. ‘Funny how the Powers see it fit to tell you this but the Council are still looking.’

‘Well, I’m a Slayer myself,’ Eliza said. ‘The whole purpose of the Watchers is to train the Slayer. Must be something about this new one that renders them redundant.’

‘So, it’s talking time?’ Law asked.

***

One week later, Eliza rode up to the homestead of the Belmont family.

 _A family of demon hunters..._ She mused. They had only been around about twenty years or so, and yet they had every supernatural thing around here quaking in fear and on their best behaviour. It was no wonder that the Watchers were seen as redundant in the circumstances. All the Powers required from Eliza was to approach the Belmonts and explain what the Slayer was to them.

_Shit, am I really the only Slayer that lived past the seven-year mark?_

A footman came to the door as Eliza approached.

‘Are you lost, ma’am?’ he asked.

‘No,’ Eliza said. ‘I’ve come to see Sir Leon Belmont. I have the answers he’s seeking.’

The footman looked startled. His assistant, a small boy, spoke up. ‘You better send word to him, sir. You know he’ll have you if you send her away without telling him and he finds out.’

Eliza was amused to see, rather than striking the boy as most superiors might do, he bit his lip and told her to wait. Eliza dismounted and did as told. As she waited, she stretched her senses out. There were quite a few magical wards around the place, all of them directed at protecting the building from supernatural attack.

So the Belmonts would be sufficiently familiar with magic.

Eliza looked over as a man who looked like a butler walked out and nodded to her. The boy waiting with her took her horse and she walked up to him. He immediately turned and led her into the manorhouse. As he took her upstairs, he asked the question that was inevitably going to come.

‘What is your name?’

‘Elizaveta Aurealis.’

The butler nodded and led her into the room. ‘Elizaveta Aurealis, Sir Belmont.’ She was let in and showed to a seat.

The room she’d been brought into was a small parlour. The man who sat opposite her had the air of an aristocrat, and of a warrior. He looked just like the knight he once was. He had longish blond hair and sharp blue eyes. Behind him, a girl of about sixteen years with the same blue eyes and blonde hair stood. She had her hands folded in front of her, but the tension in her was visible.

‘Lady Aurealis,’ Sir Belmont said. ‘You’ve come here with the claims that you can explain what’s happening to my daughter.’ He nodded his head towards the girl at his side.

‘I can,’ Eliza said. ‘I can because the same thing happened to me when I was her age.’

Leon Belmont’s eyes twitched. ‘And that was?’

‘Consistent dreams of demon hunting, despite the fact that you’ve probably never done it in your life. In every dream, you’re someone different: a princess, a peasant girl, an ancient Greek slave, a Chinawoman in the Tang Dynasty, a Roman-era Welsh Celt still holding out against the invaders. You see it all from their perspectives.’

Leon looked up at his daughter. She slowly nodded. He then looked back at Eliza.

‘You’re suddenly faster, stronger, and sharper to your surroundings than you ever were before.’ She nodded towards Leon. ‘Sometimes, you might even know about the presence of a demon or vampire before it can be heard.’

Again, her father looked up at her.

She looked alarmed. ‘I...I get a tingling sensation at the base of my neck when there’s something around.’

Eliza nodded. ‘That’s the Slayer’s sixth sense. Tells us when there’s a demon or vampire around. Also, it serves to direct your response when you’re attacked.’

‘Slayer?’ Leon asked.

‘Yes,’ Eliza said. ‘Into every generation of every family one daughter is born with the potential to become a mystically enhanced warrior called the Slayer. Very few of these Potential Slayers are actually activated – or called, if you happen to be a self-important Watcher who refuses to recognise the fact that he’s using underdeveloped girls as human shields.’

Eliza wasn’t surprised to see both of them freeze.

Leon reached back and patted his daughter’s hand. ‘Sit, Yvette,’ he told her.

The Belmont butler instantly brought her a chair and she sank down into it.

Leon leaned forward and clasped his hands, looking Eliza right in the eye. ‘Would you please elaborate on that?’

‘Certainly.’ Eliza hadn’t liked the Watchers when she’d been mortal, and the years had not endeared them to her. She had no qualms about throwing them to the wolves. ‘In the beginning of human civilisation – sometime after the Garden of Eden but before Babylon – demons freely roamed the earth. They hunted humans like humans now hunt elk, and humans showed just as much response. That was until a small group of village elders known as the Shadow Men decided to do something.’ Eliza frowned. The next part had taken her quite a while to find out, but it hadn’t been surprising to her.   
‘They took one of the girls from the tribe – probably against her will and without telling her what they were doing. Seeing as she was the template for the rest of us, I’d say she was about five and ten years.’

Leon glanced over at his daughter.

Eliza went on. ‘They chained her to the floor of a cave. Now, I know not where they got the Shadow Demon, or by what means they trapped it, but they enacted a ritual which forcibly fused it to her soul.’

Eliza then sat back and waited for the reaction.

Yvette’s face paled. She leapt to her feet and bolted out of the room. Leon didn’t look away from Eliza, a dark shadow having crossed his face, and told his butler in French to ensure Yvette did nothing impetuous in her state. The butler bowed his head and left. The demon hunter and the Slayer regarded each other for a moment.

‘How is the power passed?’ he asked.

‘Usually by the death of the previous Slayer.’

A tick took up residence in Leon’s jaw. ‘Usually?’

‘Slayers have the tendency to die quickly,’ Eliza said. ‘The average Slayer lives only one year into her activation. If a Slayer makes it to the seven-year mark she becomes immortal, and this causes the Slayer Spirit to move on, taking a copy of her memories to the next Slayer. This is what happened to me.’

‘I suppose that explains how you’re still here, but I will require proof.’

‘I will provide it.’

Leon nodded. ‘And how did you know to come here? How did you know Yvette had been activated as the new Slayer?’

‘When the Powers want to tell a Slayer something, they put the message into their dreams. Over time, the Slayer learns to interpret these dreams – if she sits down and actually pays attention to them. Most of them just rely on their Watchers to tell them what the dreams mean.’

Leon raised an eyebrow.

Eliza immediately winced. ‘I’m sorry. The Watchers are the descendents of the Shadow Men. Their purpose, stated by them, is to watch the Slayer and keep a record of her battles. While I do not deny that they make a record of the Slayer’s battles, they often do so from the comfort of home, whilst sending the girl out into the night. There are very few Watchers I have ever set eyes on who genuinely care about their charge; who think of her as a person in her own right rather than a tool to be used until it expires.’

‘If they created the Slayer in this way, it hardly surprises me. And these “powers”?’

Eliza paused and considered how to explain it. A paraphrasing of Whistler’s initial explanation to her seemed best. ‘Think of a ladder consisting of sentient beings. On the bottom rung you have your humans, on the top is God and Satan. The Powers That Be fall somewhere in the middle. They’re the ones that interact the most with the mortal world.’

‘Do they choose the Slayer?’ Leon asked.

‘In this case, I think so, yes.’

Leon inclined his head. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Usually, it’s a random selection, but this just screams of an intentional selection.’ Eliza frowned. ‘Yvette was born into this family, who has the entire supernatural population of Wallachia behaving themselves. I’d feel reasonably safe betting you’ve been drumming demonology into her head since she was a small child. And you’ve certainly got the tools of the trade.’ She nodded to the weapons on him. ‘My reckoning is that the Powers wanted an active Slayer that doesn’t need as much training, and certainly doesn’t need the Watcher’s Council.’

Leon sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘I anticipated training my son to be a demon hunter, but I never dreamed I’d have to do the same for my daughter.’

Eliza just nodded. ‘And the fact is that this could happen again, if your family line continues this way. If Yvette works out well as a Slayer, and another situation arises in which they need one that is pre-broken-in and unaffiliated with the Watcher’s Council, the Powers could send the Slayer Spirit to a Belmont girl again.’

‘And it’s important this girl is unaffiliated with these Watchers?’ Leon asked.

‘It is,’ Eliza said. ‘The Watcher’s Council goes around looking for Potential Slayers so that they can start training them early in case they do become the Slayer. They then remove them from their families – I have seen kidnapping happen here – and isolate them entirely so that all they have to rely on is the Watchers, hence the average lifespan of a year.’

‘Why was Yvette never singled out?’

‘Did you have any other daughters besides her?’ Eliza asked. ‘Even if they died in infancy or childhood?’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘That would be why. Potential Slayers do die in childhood just as every other little girl might. The Watcher’s Council only have a rudimentary understanding of what makes a Potential Slayer and tend to look for higher physical ability before they use a spell that either confirms or debunks the idea that a particular girl might be a Potential. Aside from the fact that you’re demon hunters and they don’t want other demon hunting bodies to become aware of them, for obvious reasons, they have no means of knowing if being more physically able than usual is a direct result of being raised in a family of demon hunters.’

Leon nodded. ‘So as long as we have more than one girl and train them all for the eventuality of being the Slayer, our girls are safe from them?’

‘Reasonably.’


	2. An Immortal Slayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yvette Belmont has become something rare amongst Slayers.
> 
> And...how did Trevor Belmont escape from the mob that killed his parents and burned his home to the ground?

**Wallachia, 15th Century**  
Flames licked up over a crest. It rose higher and higher until it covered it completely. Then, the fire faded off. In the darkness a crucifix appeared. The crucifix rotated until it was inverted and then it dropped. Everything faded to black. The next visage faded into view, showing a single figure stumbling through the burnt-out ruins of a familiar place.

Blue eyes snapped open.

‘Bastards.’

***

Trevor Belmont felt a sense of disjointedness as he watched his childhood home burn.

It felt like this wasn’t really happening, even if he knew it was. He couldn’t understand how it could be happening. They’d spent literal centuries protecting these people; he’d grown up among them. How could they just turn on them like this? The ache in Trevor’s arms from the men holding him down and forcing to watch his home and his parents burn was enough to tell him that, yes, this was real.

‘Hurk!’

Trevor tore his eyes away from the burning building in time to see that fucking visiting bishop, who’d started this, buckle to the ground. A red line was across his throat and blood was oozing out. It wasn’t deep enough to kill him instantly, but it was enough that he would now bleed to death. Whoever cut his throat knew exactly what they were doing.

In the next instant, one of the men holding him down screamed in agony and released his arm. Then the man on his other side did the same. Before Trevor could run for the house in blind desperation (and a small part of him knew that was what it would be), he felt himself hoisted up by the back of the shirt and dropped over the front of the saddle.

Looking up as the horse was turned, he recognised the face under the hood. He’d only seen her portrait before. However, he’d learned about this woman from his father’s knee, but he was still surprised to see that she was here. Maybe part of him hadn’t believed that she could possibly be real. But here she was.

Her cowled face was only seen by him because of his angle. He watched as she lifted her eyes and surveyed the crowd.

When she spoke, it was in a loud and clear voice, despite the mild French accent she still carried. ‘You naive little shits! This family has protected you all from all demonkind for generations and you decide to persecute them for it? You lock the adults in their home and burn it to the ground; you force their son to watch and excommunicate him? And why? Because this corrupt little turd—’ she pointed accusingly at the bishop, ‘—wanders into town and takes advantage of a piece of speculation that’s wafting around the place.’ She narrowed her eyes and shook her head at them. ‘When the consequences for this come to bite you in the ass, I’m not helping you.’

She then looked at the bishop. ‘When you get to Hell, tell them you were sent by Yvette, the Vampire Slayer.’

Yup.

It was her.

Yvette then turned the horse and rode away from the burning estate, taking Trevor with her.

Sometime shortly after, he fell asleep.

**Gresit, 1476**  
The stench wasn’t something Trevor had wanted to put up with.

Still, after Yvette had saved him that night she had taken him in. Over 300 year old Seven-Year Slayer or not, they were still family. If it hadn’t been for her, he might’ve just decided to say “fuck it” and left the common man to suffer for the hell they’d brought upon themselves. But Yvette’s lessons had made their mark on him.

With a huff, Trevor hopped out of the sewerage system and into the town.

He stopped and looked around the place. It was a thoroughly ordinary town, with a thoroughly ordinary look. If not for the hunched way people walked, the way mothers shielded even the older children, and the wary, flittering eyes, one would think nothing was amiss. But Trevor knew better. There was a reason he’d come here. But he’d have to wait until nightfall.

While he waited, he went in search of breakfast.

The most he could afford at present, until his next rendezvous, was a strip of meat. It was good enough and he cooked it before walking through the streets, looking at all the nooks and crannies of the town so he knew what he could use when the time came to do his job. That was why he was there in that back alley.

He was looking around when two priests pushed an old man past him. The colour of the robes caught Trevor’s eye and he stopped to see what they were doing. That was definitely a Speaker. And not just any Speaker – it was a Speaker Elder. One of the priests shoved the Elder and the old man stumbled a step before turning around.

‘I warned you.’ The priest that had shoved him pulled a metal stave out of his robes. ‘You can’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘You did not listen to me, sir,’ the Elder said.

The priest pointed the stave at him threateningly. ‘Are you talking back to me?’

Anger rolled in Trevor’s gut. Yet another example of the church scapegoating the nearest minority. He seemed to find it everywhere he went.

‘No, I’m merely talking to you.’ The elder pushed the stave aside. ‘Anyone can see that we are not responsible for what befalls Gresit.’

Trevor closed his eyes. ‘No, keep walking.’ He didn’t move though.

‘So now I’m stupid,’ he demanded. ‘I work within the light of God himself, but you can see things I can’t? With your magic?’

‘There’s no magic, sir. We are here to help. That is all.’

The priest got right in his face. ‘Speakers don’t help. Speakers are tainted. You attract evil! And you and yours were told to be out of Gresit by sunset!’ He took a hold of his face. ‘And see?’ He pointed upwards with the stave. ‘The sun is up! Take a good look at the sunrise, old man!’

Trevor sighed. ‘I don’t care.’

Yvette’s voice rang in his memory, though. _‘But you do care, Trevor. You can lie to yourself until the cows come home, but when push comes to shove, you do care enough to do something about it.’_

‘Will killing an old man make you less scared of the dark?’ the Elder asked.

‘I dunno,’ the priest said. ‘Maybe it’ll just make me feel better.’

Well, fuck. Trevor flicked his cloak back and drew his whip. _Kuh-RACK!_ The end of his whip coiled around the stave and Trevor yanked. He violently ripped the weapon out of his hand and that wasn’t the only thing he ripped away. There was a certain level of schadenfreude he felt watching that, and when the priest in question made his pained sounds and collapsed to his knees. Still...he could hardly admit that. The other priest spun around. The Speaker Elder just looked up at him in mild surprise.

Obviously, he’d seen him standing there. He just hadn’t expected him to do anything.

Trevor rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Oh, hell. I’m sorry. I was trying to snatch the stave out of your hand. How’s your finger?’

‘What fucking finger?’ the priest demanded.

Trevor smirked. ‘That’s no way for a Man of the Cloth to talk. Why don’t you go and get that looked at?’

The two priests stared at him in disbelief.

The de-fingered one turned to the other. ‘Kill the bastard!’

‘Look,’ Trevor said, stepping forward. ‘I don’t like priests, at the best of times – I mean, I really, really don’t like priests. If you leave now, we’ll say no more about it.’

‘Kill him now!’ the first priest barked.

Part of Trevor hoped he would try. ‘Last warning. This’ll get nasty.’

The other priest looked a bit torn, clearly the novice of the two. He glanced back at the other guy and then back a Trevor before he steeled himself. Oh, goody! He was going to do it. He flicked a dagger out of his sleeve. Trevor calmly rolled his body weight from one side to the other and inclined his head.

‘Oh. Now, that’s a funny thing for a priest to be carrying.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘That’s a Thief’s Knife.’ So, the odds were they weren’t real priests. The “priest” spun it around and got ready to charge. ‘Seriously?’ He charged. Trevor dodged. ‘Someone will get hurt.’

The “priest” stabbed again. Trevor wound the end of his whip around the man’s wrist, spun him around a few times and then released him. The thug in priest’s robes went flying, but Trevor made sure to hook the end of his whip around the guy’s ankle. He waited when he felt him stop, just long enough for him to notice. With his back turned, Trevor cracked the whip. The “priest” fell to the ground.  
He still got up and charged again though. Trevor dodged each of the stabs and slashes he attempted. He then knocked him back and cracked his whip. This time, he intentionally injured the guy. The man cried out as his eye was knocked out of its socket and collapsed to the cobblestones.

Trevor curled up the whip and turned away from him. He walked over to the other “priest” and faced him. ‘Pick him up. Go back to your church. Don’t bother this man or his people again.’

The “priest” couldn’t grab his buddy and run fast enough.

‘The violence wasn’t necessary.’

Trevor turned.

The Speaker Elder smiled. ‘But...’ He gave a chuckle. ‘It is appreciated. I thank you for your assistance and, I suspect, your restraint.’

Trevor gave him a wry smile.


	3. The Catacombs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor Belmont goes down to retrieve what he expects to be a dead Speaker, and finds a lot more than he bargained for.

Trevor leaned back against the window.

So, it was pretty clear that the Speakers weren’t going to leave Gresit, even for their own safety.

He still couldn’t resist the crack. ‘Well, you’re Speakers. Words are what you do.’

‘You know of us?’ the young one had asked with narrowed eyes, which had led Trevor to wandering over to the window in the first place.

‘My family’s always been on good terms with the Speakers, although my father once got into a fight with one.’

‘True Speakers do not fight.’

With a wry smile, Trevor turned to him. ‘When he tried to convince the Speaker to have your oral history transcribed on paper.’

The boy looked surprised at that, while the Elder chuckled good-naturedly.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We are quite protective of our ways. History is a living thing. Paper is dead. Would you like something to eat?’

‘No. I’m more interested in what you’re doing in Gresit. You said something about one of you being missing...?’

‘Yes,’ the Elder said, ‘my grandchild.’

Ah. That made things make a lot more sense. ‘So you’re not inclined to leave until your grandchild is returned?’

The Elder bowed his head and walked forward. He sat down. ‘There is not a structure left in Gresit. No answers. No aid. If you know Speakers, then you know we can’t turn away from those in need. That is why we are here.’

‘And your grandchild?’ Trevor asked.

‘In Speaker history, there is an old story. A legend, probably.’

‘I like stories,’ Trevor remarked.

‘The story says that the Saviour sleeps under Gresit. A great hero sleeps until he is needed; until there is a darkness upon the land.’

‘Yeah, I heard that one. The Sleeping Soldier. It’s a local legend. Sounds weirdly convenient to me anyhow.’ Trevor propped a hand on his hip. ‘I suppose you sent your grandchild down to try and find him?’

‘Exactly how much do you know about us, sir?’ the Elder asked.

‘I’m a Belmont.’ Trevor moved his cloak so they could see the crest on his breast, earning stunned looks. ‘So I know you’re a nomadic people who gather knowledge, memorise it, carry it in complete spoken histories with you.’ He turned away from them. ‘I also know you gather hidden knowledge and have practitioners of magic in your tribes.’

‘A Belmont?’ The young man sounded like he couldn’t believe it. ‘I thought your family had vanished.’

Trevor turned back around. ‘If vanished is the polite way of saying exiled, hated, and burned our ancestral home.’

‘Then you know something of magic,’ the Speaker Elder said.

‘My father taught me, yes, but I was never overly proficient at it.’

The Elder nodded. ‘And you know that just because we found a story in our past, it doesn’t mean it originated there. The wisest and cleverest of our magicians know that time is not absolute. That it is possible to hear stories from the future.’

‘So you think there’s someone who can save the city asleep under it. And you sent your grandchild to try and find them.’ He frowned.

‘Yes. They went into the catacombs under the mausoleum west of the church. Has not returned.’

‘Isn’t there a head man in Gresit you could go to?’

‘He died in the first horde attack. Our searches have been unsuccessful.’ The Elder looked up at him. ‘So, what are your plans?’

Trevor folded his arms. ‘I am a Belmont. I came here to kill the demons. But, seeing as they’re not going to be back until nightfall, I suppose I can kill the day by getting your missing Speaker. But once I come back with them, dead or alive, will you please leave? Wait outside the city, give your aid to survivors when the night horde finally just rips through this place?’

‘Why would you do that?’ the boy asked.

Trevor didn’t answer. ‘They’re going to come for you soon; the “good” people. It’s gonna be a night run. They were talking about it in the marketplace this morning.’

‘I don’t think you answered my question.’

Trevor stepped forward and looked him right in the eye. ‘I know what it’s like to be persecuted by your own country for the accident of your birth.’ He looked back at the Elder. ‘If I find your grandchild, will you leave this city before nightfall?’

The Elder dropped his head. ‘If that is the condition of your recovering them, yes.’

Trevor cracked his fingers. He didn’t fully believe them, but he still walked to the door and snatched an apple from a Speaker as he went. ‘I’m leaving now. Don’t go walkabouts looking for people to give support to. Stay right here.’

‘Belmont,’ the Elder said before he could walk out. ‘It is not dying that frightens us. It’s living without ever having done our best.’

Trevor opened the door. ‘I don’t care.’

He walked out.

***

The entrance point was easy to find.

A hole in the wall that he climbed up to and then jumped through. Then he slid down. He came to a stop on top of a staircase. Walking down, he grabbed a torch and sniffed it. Lifting the torch, he said, ‘Fresh oil.’ It would light easily. He drew a blade out.

Pressing the torch against the stone, he struck the stone with the blade. Sure enough, the torch lit right up. Trevor stepped back with his newly-lit torch and used it to look around. ‘Anybody home? He then noticed something odd. There was a kind of metal tubing. Curious, he walked over and knocked on it. Down here, he’d expect the metal to be cold.

‘Warm. That’s weird.’ There wasn’t any sunlight to warm it.

He was distracted, however, when the entire room shook. He drew his short sword and walked forward cautiously. He descended the next flight of stairs. ‘I can hear you,’ he called into the darkness. ‘I’m armed, and a lot less happy than you are. So you want to stay well out of my way.’

He stepped off the staircase and the floor immediately gave way under his feet. Trevor gave an alarmed yell but he still managed to come to a perfect landing. He lifted his head with a smirk. ‘Reflexes like a cat.’

Then the second floor gave way.

He hit some kind of metal piping on his way down and landed very hard on his backside.

Despite his aching body, he pushed himself up. Stumbling out of the debris, he looked around the dark chamber he’d found himself in. There were odd shapes on the tops of the pillars holding the room open. But Trevor had lost his torch, so he couldn’t see a damn thing. That was until they clicked, one after the other, and began generating bright lights on their own.

Looking around, Trevor saw several statues. Most of them were in pieces. The only exception to that was the one right in the middle of the hallway. Trevor walked over. The figure had their hands upraised and their mouth open in a silent scream. The robes were familiar. Trevor walked over and carefully tapped the hood.

‘Either someone left a statue of a Speaker down here or...’ A loud bang cut him off and Trevor spun around.

The massive, hulking figure of a demon began to make its way out of the depths of the chamber and into the light. As it did so, however, several of the light devices shattered, launching the place back into darkness. But Trevor could still see the damned thing and he knew exactly what it was.

 _Well...shit._ ‘Cyclops.’ The eye glowed purple. The beam fired and Trevor dodged. The beam followed him as he manoeuvred away from it. He dived behind one of the pillars. ‘Stone Eye Cyclops! Right out of the family Beastiary! God shits in my dinner once again.’

He dodged further back as the Cyclops rounded the corner. Trevor used the pillars as cover as he looked around, determinedly trying to find an opening. He had to get a blade into that eye in order to kill it, but the only thing he could really launch himself off of would be the petrified Speaker.

Suddenly, the Cyclops caught him, grabbing him around the head and shoulders. For one moment, Trevor became startlingly aware of his mortality. Then the Cyclops threw him. His entire body shuddered from the impact to the floor and he forcing himself up through the spinning head and aching pains.

But the Cyclops fired at him again and adrenalin got him moving. Speaker probably wouldn’t appreciate this, but they were literally all he had. Trevor grabbed his dagger and manoeuvred from pillar to pillar. He then spun the dagger up into the air. As the Cyclops, effectively distracted, looked at it, Trevor ran across and vaulted up. The Speaker was used as a spring-board and he threw up to his short sword.

Timing himself, Trevor kicked it. The short sword flew across and the blade buried itself deep in the Cyclops’s eye.

Trevor landed in a crouch.

The Cyclops dropped dead.

The force of its collapse caused the Speaker to begin to tip. They were still alive in there, and it’d be better if he brought back a living grandchild. Acting reflexively, Trevor shot forward. He caught the Speaker moments before the person in question returned to flesh. As the small body fell into his arms, the hood fell back and Trevor found himself surprised.

_She’s a girl._

The girl opened her eyes and sucked in a breath. Then she looked up at him. She went to say something, but the natural consequences of being turned to stone and then being turned back caught up to her. She rolled out of her arms and lost her lunch on the stone floor beneath her. Trevor stood up and waited her out.

‘Granddaughter.’ He turned and walked over to fetch his blade. ‘Yeah, heard they do that.’

‘What?’ The girl straightened up and looked at him.

Trevor cleaned off the blade as he explained. ‘Dress the girls like boys.’

The girl stood up. ‘Yes. Safer for travelling. What happened?’

Trevor pointed to the corpse. ‘You walked into the Cyclops. Turns you to stone with his eyeball and feeds on your terror while you’re trapped in your own body.’

‘Did...’ She frowned at him. ‘Did you climb on me?’

Trevor shrugged. ‘You were the only thing around tall enough.’

‘That was rude.’ She folded her arms.

Trevor shrugged. ‘Yeah, well, demon hunting isn’t exactly a polite practice.’

‘Who are you anyway?’ she demanded.

‘Trevor Belmont,’ he said. ‘I met your grandfather. He wouldn’t leave the city until he had your body. I came to recover your remains so that the Speakers would get to safety.’

‘But the Sleeping Warrior is still down here,’ she protested.

‘Yeah, well, your grandfather thinks you’re dead. And your people are going to be beset by a mob if you don’t get out of town before dusk.’ Trevor shrugged. ‘If he does exist – and I seriously doubt it – he’s not going anywhere. Your people think you’re dead. The least you can do is set that old man’s mind to rest.’

The girl frowned. ‘He thinks I’m dead...?’

‘He wasn’t much wrong,’ Trevor said. ‘Killing a Cyclops is the only way to restore a victim. You’re lucky I came into town. Now, come on.’

‘Very well.’

He moved off.

‘I’m Sypha Belnades,’ she said as she started following him.

Trevor just nodded.


	4. The Bishop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor comes face-to-face with the man who started this whole mess to begin with.

Sypha wasn’t sure what to think of Trevor.

He smelt mostly of piss and beer and blood and sweat. Sure, he was sad – seemed to carry it around on him like a second skin – but he was also rude, as she said to her grandfather. At the same time he had saved her life, and he clearly did care about them. He wanted them out of town for their own safety, even if their own ethics didn’t allow for that.

But he left shortly after, evidently to seek out beer.

***

Trevor grit his teeth as he barely stepped out of the Speaker’s hut and was surrounded by armed priests.

‘Careful,’ the priest he’d defingered said, evidently trying to scare him. ‘My knife hand’s not too steady. I could slip and take your eye out. The Bishop of Gresit requests your kind attendance at the church.’

‘I don’t think I’m allowed into churches,’ Trevor said.

The priest moved around. ‘The Bishop says he’ll make an exception in your case.’

Trevor chuckled. ‘No. Seriously. I realise you’re trying to menacingly abduct me, but I’m excommunicated.’

‘The Bishop said to tell you that the terms of even major excommunication mean that you are obliged to appear when summoned by the church.’

Now, Trevor knew that his excommunication really meant nothing where it counted. It only mattered on earth. He also knew, from Yvette, that the only earthly beings that received “divine messages” were seers and Slayers. So, these priests, and their bishop, meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. And he really didn’t want to see this asswipe.

But it looked like he didn’t have a choice. ‘Well, shit.’ He was prodded along. ‘Look, if I enter the church and catch fire, or something, it’s your fault.’

So he was “escorted” to the church and in. The Bishop that approached the pulpit as the priests withdrew was a skinny man with beady little eyes and he didn’t like the look of him one bit. He looked a little too much like the turd that’d excommunicated and exiled his family; a little too much like the one that Yvette had killed.

‘I am the Bishop of Gresit,’ he said with a haughty demeanor.

Trevor made an observation based entirely on the man’s voice. ‘You’re not from around here.’

‘No. I am originally from Targoviste. I was an aide to the Archbishop. I did not like the man.’

‘Well, you’re not running away screaming like the rest of the locals for one thing.’ Trevor’s eyes narrowed.

‘From you?’ the Bishop asked.

‘From the baby-eating freaks-of-nature who apparently raid Gresit every night.’

‘I’m here to save Gresit.’

Trevor nearly laughed at the claim. ‘And how do you intend to do that?’

‘I brought you here to answer some questions,’ the Bishop said. ‘Not ask them.’

Trevor smirked at him. ‘Well, tough shit. How, exactly, do you intend to help these people? By killing Speakers?’

‘The Speakers brought these troubles upon themselves.’

‘Bullshit.’

The Bishop ignored him. ‘One cannot live without God, quite literally.’

That was almost laughable. ‘You think the night hordes came because people weren’t religious enough? And you were in Targoviste?’

The Bishop came to stand behind the pulpit. ‘The Archbishop had some…interests that I believed compromised his ability to protect his city. I was sent away long before Dracula came to Targoviste. We disagreed on matters of a…clerical discipline.’

Trevor inclined his head. ‘You were the one responsible for burning Lisa Tepes of Lupu, weren’t you?’

‘Oh, yes. I arraganed it, in fact.’ He looked at Trevor curiously. ‘How did you know her name?’

Trevor chuckled. ‘I’m a Belmont. The moment the hordes began to descend I started looking for the source and I found a few of her patients.’

The Bishop’s eyes narrowed.

‘Specifically, the old woman she was tending when you walked in to haul her away as a witch. She gave me a very detailed description of you.’ He inclined his head. ‘Seems the old lady didn’t buy your “witch” story.’

‘The woman was a witch,’ the Bishop stated firmly. ‘And there can be no doubt now that she consorted with the devil. She even married him.’

‘I see,’ Trevor said. ‘And I’m here to be disciplined?’ Which would make leaving him his weapons very stupid.

‘Not as such,’ the Bishop said. ‘I have a gift for you: your life, Belmont. Take it, and go. Tonight the Speakers will be dealt with, and then Gresit will be secure. I refuse, however, to toil so hard for the soul of the city with an excommunicate heretic with its walls! You put harm on everything by your very presence.’

Trevor stared up at him in disbelief. ‘My God. You really believe it, don’t you?’

‘You will leave Gresit by sundown or you won’t see the sunrise. Do I make myself clear?’ He gestured. ‘Despite the crimes you’ve committed against my aides, despite the crimes your family has committed against God, you will walk safely – but until sundown.’

‘My family committed no crime!’ Trevor snapped, his temper flaring. ‘You people simply decided we were wrong to defend this world against the supernatural, and now—’

The Bishop cut him off, eyes blazing and nostrils flaring. ‘You Belmonts have never understood the Power of the Word of God! The people of this city are mine! I am their Lord now. They’ll do as I ask! By morning, no one Speaker will defile these streets, and you’ll either be gone or be dead!’ The look faded into a cold glare. ‘Do you understand?’

He was a fanatical madman. There was no other way to describe him. ‘Yes.’

The Bishop composed himself. ‘Do this thing for me, and perhaps a decision from the church will be something we can discuss.’ He turned his back and stepped away from the pulpit.

Knowing exactly what he was talking about, Trevor turned his own back and walked out. ‘No offence, but you are just a Bishop. Excommunication came from a little higher up the ladder.’

The thing about church was that they were designed to carry peoples’ voices. So Trevor heard exactly what this nutcase said.

‘Targoviste is gone. The other great cities are lost. Gresit will be the last major city in all Wallachia. To all intents and purposes, I will be the church.’

***

Sypha wouldn’t want to admit it, but she was glad to see Trevor again.

She wasn’t sure why. And his first statement following her grandfather’s invitation to him wasn’t exactly great.

‘By the way, you’re all going to die.’

Then he explained. Sypha didn’t understand. Didn’t he understand that they had to stay no matter what. He then made the statement that they had a few options and the one that could stop the mob dead in its tracks would take three days to get here if he sent a summons out now. Of course, then the smart-ass had to come up with an alternate plan.

And Sypha wondered why she hadn’t thought of it.


	5. Angry Mob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor's decision to protect the Speakers leads him to have to face an angry mob.

Trevor sat in the dark and waited as the door was hacked down by an angry mob led by what he was increasingly sure was fake priests.

The priests walked in after they got the civilians to beat the door in.

‘Where are the Speakers?’

‘I’ve put them somewhere safe,’ Trevor said.

‘You defend evil,’ the priest said. ‘Give them to us!’

There was a rumble outside.

‘Shut up,’ Trevor said.

The priest moved forward to try to get in his face. ‘What?’

‘Shut up.’ Trevor said it louder this time. He looked him right in the eye. ‘You’re not getting the Speakers. You’re getting no blood today so shut-up.’

The priest slapped him. ‘You will give us the Speakers so that we can save this city.’

‘This city’s lost,’ Trevor stated. ‘It was lost when you and the rest of your scum moved in.’

The priest slapped him again. ‘And, what?’ He stormed off. ‘You are here to fight us? You’re here to convince the people that nomad black magicians are good for Gresit, and it is the presence of the Men of God that brought the night hordes upon us?’

‘You know—’ Trevor began.

‘Silence!’ the priest cut him off. ‘Look at you! You’re a wreck! You stink! You can barely keep your eyes open! What do you expect to achieve against us?’

Trevor smirked. ‘Absolutely nothing.’

‘So you’re going to die for nothing?’ the priest asked. ‘For people you don’t know?’

‘I don’t know any of you.’ Trevor turned his back and stepped away. ‘But that doesn’t matter, does it? My family, the family you demonised and excommunicated, has fought and died through generations for this country. We do this thing for Wallachia, and her people. We don’t have to know you all. We do it anyway. It is not the dying that frightens us.’ He dropped his cloak, letting the Belmont crest emblazoned on his back be seen, ‘It’s never having stood up and fought for you.’ He turned back around. ‘I am Trevor Belmont, of the House of Belmont, and dying has never frightened me.’

‘Good.’ The priest drew his knife and the other priests around him got ready to attack. They began to advance on him.

Trevor waited and then dropped to his knee as he tossed his several daggers out. All of the subordinate priests were hit. Trevor charged forward and tackled the front one. As he shoved him out the door, he grabbed a piece of rope and brought the whole entrance to the hut caving in. Pinning him to the ground, Trevor looked up. The man was stunned, but there was an angry mob to deal with now.

Good thing that was one of the first things Yvette ever taught him.

The mob began to advance but one of them was carrying a hand axe. Trevor’s eyes narrowed and he seized his whip. With a quick snap of leather, he snatched the weapon out of the unprepared civilian’s hand. He caught the handaxe in his other hand, spun in a circle and threw the handaxe. The weapon flew overhead in a wide arc and hit the rope holding up the nearby crucifix.

The mob scattered to avoid getting hit.

The mob froze in shock. Trevor took the opportunity to run, snatching a torch as he went. The townsfolk gave chase. That was okay. Trevor would lead them through the city, so long as they went nowhere near the Speakers. Trevor ran through small alleyways and streets. At one point his way was blocked by a small group. He bounded off the street wall, planted his boot in the face of one of the men, and bounded back before dropping the torch and starting a fire.

Trevor’s next obstacle came in the form of a priest firing arrows at him. He ducked behind a building and quickly looked out, seeking an escape from yet another two priests coming after him. But then the priest he’d gotten the eye out of landed, a sharp blade in hand, and came at him. That couldn’t be more perfect if it was scripted.

Trevor wrapped his hand around his short sword. The priest charged. Trevor drew and deflected the blow. He then parried him into position before jumping behind him and using him as a very convenient human shield. The first arrow went into the one-eyed priest’s shoulder, and the second into his other eye. He threw the man down and went after the other two. He disarmed one – quite literally – and then stabbed the second through the head as he snatched his spear and launched it at the archer.

The archer priest gave a strangled yell as he went down.

Trevor took a moment to catch his breath, before running off.

Only to find the bulk of the mob.

_Not good,_ Trevor thought as someone yelled, ‘There he is!’

Trevor turned on his heel and ran again.

_‘The best way to disperse a mob is to make them stop,’_ Yvette’s voice rang in his head. _‘These people have been riled up. They’re angry, they’re violent, and they’re not thinking. You make them stop and the haze will wear off. They’ll begin to think again. That’s when you start pulling the arguments apart. You start encouraging the thinking.’_

Problem was he couldn’t think of a single way to stop them.

***

The Bishop stood on the pulpit with his head bowed, listening to the angry mob outside with a sense of appreciation.

He smirked as he heard the door to the church open. He lifted his head, though, and the smirk fell away. He couldn’t see who’d just entered. ‘Who’s that?’ he called. ‘Are the Speakers dead?’

A deep and gravelly voice answered him. ‘No.’

The Bishop clenched a fist. ‘Well, get back out there! The Speakers have to die before the sun goes down.’

‘The sun is already down.’ At that instant, the Bishop watched in disbelief as a demon stepped forward, six glowing blue eyes and a mouthful of glowing blue fangs illuminating it first. It was covered in fur and spikes were growing out of its back.

The Bishop became aware of growling as he stepped back from the demon, and he quickly looked around. There were demons everywhere. They had completely surrounded him. He looked around frantically as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. This didn’t make any sense. His entire body shook and he clutched a rosary.

‘You…’ he managed, ‘cannot enter the House of God.’

The only demon that seemed capable of speech gave a short growl. ‘God is not here. This is an empty box.’

The demons got uncomfortably close and the Bishop quickly glanced around before focusing on the demon in front of him. ‘God is in all His churches.’

‘Your God’s Love is not unconditional,’ the demon said. ‘He does not love us, and He does not love you.’

‘I have done His bidding!’ The Bishops’s eyes narrowed. ‘My life’s work…is in His Name!’

‘Your life’s work makes Him puke,’ the demon calmly announced.

He suddenly saw Belmont’s disbelieving face in his mind’s eye. _‘My God. You really believe it, don’t you?’_

‘I…am the Bishop of Gresit!’ the Bishop insisted.

‘Your God knows that we wouldn’t be here without you.’ The demon’s hackles rose and its spikes seemed to grow. ‘This is all your fault, isn’t it?’

Once again, Belmont’s words came to haunt him. _‘You were the one responsible for burning Lisa Tepes of Lupu, weren’t you? …Seems the old lady didn’t buy your “witch” story.’_

‘She was a witch…!’ he insisted, to the apparition; to the demon; to God.

‘Lies?’ the demon asked. ‘In your House of God? No wonder he has abandoned you. But _we_ love you.’

Ice-cold fear gripped the Bishop’s heart. ‘…What?’

‘We love you.’ The Bishop was frozen in place as the demon climbed up onto the pulpit. ‘We couldn’t be here without you.’

As the demon reached out and took his head in its claws, the Bishop began to whimper in fear.

‘Let me…kiss you…’

And the last thing the Bishop of Gresit saw was those glowing blue fangs coming at him.

***

Trevor ran through the streets.

The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end. It wasn’t the mob, though. The sun was down and the night horde was here. He had to find a way to stop the mob before the horde attacked. Otherwise, he’d have to wait until they actually did attack before he could do anything about it.

Unfortunately, there was only one of him. He came to the town square, he found several members of the mob already there. He took the moment to catch his breath as he looked around at all of them. It was looking more and more like the only way he was going to get out of this was if the horde came swooping down. Trevor huffed and straightened up as the mob began to advance on him.

Then something totally unexpected happened.

A ring of fire suddenly surrounded him, cutting the mob off from him and protecting him. Trevor quickly lifted an arm against the heat. Ignoring the mob crying out in alarm and fear, he looked up and around – seeking out the source. He found himself surprised, impressed, and maybe a touch appreciative.

(Okay, maybe a bit aroused.)

Sypha was standing on a building, magic glowing on the ends of her fingertips as she controlled the flames.

One of the thug-priests spotted her too. ‘Witch!’ he pointed accussingly at her with his sword.

‘No!’ she fiercely declared. ‘I am a Speaker, and a scholar of magic. I serve no demon and I do no evil!’

Shit, that was fantastic, Trevor mused as the glow of magic turned blue and brushed over the mob, forcing them to a standstill. The glow went back to red and with a grunt of effort, she created a path for him. Trevor smiled and headed in her direction. ‘You never told me you were a magician,’ he called up to her.

‘You never asked,’ she retorted.

Point taken. ‘Though I guess I now understand why it was you who went down into the catacombs to look for your sleeping god.’ He’d thought it was odd when he’d realised she was a woman. Generally, only the women like Yvette were sent into those places – otherwise it was a group of men. And women like Yvette wouldn’t get hit. ‘What are you doing here?’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘I didn’t ask you to fight for me. I fight for myself.’

‘Fine.’ In fact that was more than fine. There was an old saying: Belmonts don’t carry dead weight. So, if one of the Speakers could actually defend themselves, who was he to complain? But there was one thing he would complain about. He caught sight of the priest in question and turned his head. It was his turned to point accusingly. ‘You!’


	6. The Night Hoarde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to fight back.

The man glared at him and then yelled directly at the man next to him. ‘Kill them! Quickly!’

‘No.’ No. Trevor was going to make sure this guy had to fight for himself. He was nothing but a blustering bully. ‘Just you and me.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Come on. You’re very big at telling other people what to do. Getting the good people of Gresit to commit murder for you. Let’s see how you do on your own.’

As he’d been speaking, the people around the priest started to back off, uncertainty on their faces. He wouldn’t say he’d stopped them long enough to have them calm down, but he didn’t really care how the effect was achieved. It’d started and now all he had to do was keep pushing them down that path. Sypha moved the fire, clearing the way between Trevor and the priest. ‘You and me.’ Trevor walked forward and the priest backed off. ‘I can see you’re carrying a blade. I wonder if the people of the great city of Gresit have ever seen a priest draw a knife before.’

A low murmur went through the crowd. The thug-priest began sweating, and the flames were away from him so it wasn’t the heat.

Trevor stopped and put his hand on the handle of his own blade. ‘Your long knife. My short sword. Let’s go.’

He still didn’t move.

‘Come on!’ Trevor drawled. ‘You had no problem beating an old man this morning.’

The courtyard was dead silent.

‘Huh?’ Trevor asked. ‘You had no problem lying to these people, about the Speakers.’ He glanced around and was pleased to see they were all glaring at the priest.

‘The Speakers brought this upon us!’ the priest insisted.

‘No, they didn’t. You know it. The Speakers stayed here to offer aid.’ As he spoke, Trevor was vaguely aware of Sypha jumping down from the rooftop. ‘It was _your_ Bishop who brought _all_ this down on us; _your_ Bishop who started it all by killing a defenceless woman!’ Behind the priest, he saw the faces of the civilians tighten in angered shock, and he didn’t doubt the same was happening all around him, especially with the way the priest nervously backed up, eyes darting about. ‘You’d have made murderers out of these people! The only one here who isn’t innocent…’ Trevor pointed with his short sword. ‘…is _you_!’

One of the civilians suddenly ran past. Before the priest knew what happened, the civilian stabbed him. And once one did it, the rest were quick to join in. Trevor resheathed his short sword and planted his hands on his hips to watch as the priest was quickly stabbed to death by the very people he’d been trying to trick into murder. It was nothing less than what he deserved, honestly.

However, Trevor’s attention was suddenly pulled by an explosion of fire behind him and he turned quickly. He turned around as the civilians turned and ran, screaming. Sypha was the only exception. She stepped up behind him and said, ‘It’s them. They’re coming!’

Trevor immediately turned, one hand going onto his whip. ‘Back to the far side of the square!’

He was pleased to note that no one needed further encouragement. One man who turned to go, Trevor stopped. ‘Hey, up front now!’

He turned, clutching his pike. ‘What? Why?’

Trevor walked over to him. ‘Because I’m the only one who knows how to fight these things. Everyone with a pike or long weapon, get out in front with me.’ He grabbed him by the collar and dragged him over. ‘Six in front, six behind. Pikes forward! Hold steady!’ They did exactly what he told them to. He walked past them. ‘I need a priest. One who was properly ordained in a church.’

One was quick to step forward, despite the fear in his eyes.

‘Grab some people, go to the well, start drawing water. You know what to do with water, yes? For their dispersion. Go!’ The priest and a group of people ran off to the well. He turned his head. ‘Sypha?’

‘Yes?’ She was the only one who didn’t look on the verge of shitting herself.

‘I want them walled in the square,’ Trevor said. ‘I want it so they can only come towards us. Is that something you can do?’

‘Will ice do?’

‘Better than fire, anyway. Let’s hope so.’ He called out his next instructions. ‘I want salt over here! As much as you can find!’

The civilians were quick about bringing both the water and the salt. The salt came first. ‘Everyone with a blade, wipe the end with the salt, now!’ He was quickly passed the holy water.

Sypha stood next to him as they waited. The fire came to the entrance to the courtyard. The first of the demons emerged, and the others soon followed. There was the distinct feel of terror in the square, but the men held their weapons steady. Trevor narrowed his eyes at them.

‘Sypha, walls!’

There was a faint blue glow and the walls flew up. Thick ice walls that trapped the demons inside. One of them reached out to touch the walls but its hand was instantly burned and it screeched in pain. Trevor flung the bucked of water, showering them in the liquid that was like acid to them. The demons screamed and shook as their flesh was burned clear away.

‘Well!’ Trevor was pleasantly surprised. ‘That priest really could make holy water, after all.’ He then gave the order. ‘Pikemen, four steps forward!’ They moved, evidently given a vote of confidence after seeing the effect of the water. As they moved, Trevor looked at the woman next to him. ‘Sypha, close the door behind them.’ He watched as she pressed her fingertips together and a third ice wall appeared behind the demons, trapping them inside.

One of the demons snarled and charged.

‘Rear pikes, up!’ Trevor ordered.

The men moved and the demon was skewered. It began to struggle.

‘Cut him down!’

A man with a sword charged across and sliced the demon clear in half and finished by chopping his head off.

‘Salt kills demons!’ Trevor stated. ‘Don’t forget. Spread the word!’ He threw a bucket of water up into the air. As it came down, Sypha froze it to ice and splitered it, shooting holy ice spears into the demons below.

One of the demons roared and spat a fireball out at them. The men broke formation and dived out of the way. Trevor dodged and pulled his whip out. With a flick of his wrist, he cracked the leather at the demon. The end of the whip struck the demon across the middle and it exploded in a burst of fire.

Sypha looked at him in confusion.

‘Whip’s consecrated,’ Trevor said, ‘for fighting vampires and demons.’ He barked out the next order. ‘Swords!’ As the men with the swords ran past, Trevor kicked over another bucket of holy water and let it run ahead of them, burning the feet of the demons before they were stabbed by the very men they’d come to kill.

One of the demons hung at the back though, with glowing blue eyes and fangs, and it leapt high into the air at Trevor and Sypha. The two of them richocheted back. It went after Trevor first, obviously seeing that he was the only one who knew what he was doing, and knocked aside the sword he brought up. But it jumped aside as Sypha through a huge chunk of ice at it.

Allowed to recover, Trevor jumped up and snapped his whip across the demon’s face, missing by mere millimeters. It then charged again, but Sypha moved in front of him with her hands out and twin blue glows in her palms. Ice spikes shot out of the ground, stopping the demon dead in its tracks and trapping it.

It snarled. ‘There’s an army of us!’ So, obviously, one of the higher-ranking demons that was actually capable of speech when on the mortal plane. ‘An army! From hell!’

Trevor whipped its face in half. It exploded in an inferno. Trevor and Sypha were only protected from the flames by Sypha putting up an ice barrier. He looked back at her but, at that moment, the ground beneath their feet decided to give out. They started to run but they weren’t fast enough and they plunged down.

Thinking fast, Trevor snapped his whip and used it to pull Sypha to him. As they came together, she flipped them over with a grunt of effort and extended one hand out to slow their descent. They hit the ground and both tumbled. When they finally came to a stop, they took a second. Trevor sat up as Sypha pushed herself up too.

‘Catacombs again?’ she asked. They got up and started moving. ‘I...think we’re deeper than I went before.’

They both looked up as large metal contraptions seemed to move on their own. Suddenly two metal things slammed together just behind Trevor, shooting up dust, and then just in front of Sypha throwing up even more dust. He shot forward, grabbed her hand and ran. But then went right over another drop and plummetted again. They hit smooth stone and came to a stop.

After catching his breath, Sypha doing the same right next to him, Trevor stood up and looked over. The ground underneath them inexplicably cracked again. The both of them made leaps off the collapsing floor and Trevor caught himself on one of the rotating circlular contraptions. He looked over and saw Sypha on a similar one.

Trevor hopped down onto the metal bar below. He carefully made his way over to Sypha after she did the same. Then he looked over. There was a beam across the way that looked steady. He lashed his whip to it and pulled it tight. Seeming to know what he was thinking, Sypha climbed down and took a hold of it. She made a worried sound but climbed across before climbing up onto the beam. Trevor then curled the whip around his wrist and swung down to a lower beam.

But then it gave way.

In fact, the whole lot gave way.

‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ Trevor murmured right before climbing up to Sypha while the room seemed to be crumbling around them. They fell, and then hit the ground, falling through yet another hole and landing in rubble.

Trevor sat up and put a hand to his head. Still, they both stood up and got down. There was a well-lit room down the end of the corridor and they headed for that. The room itself had red carpet and marble floors. It looked more like a nobleman’s quarters than anything else – except for the great big upraised coffin on the podium. Suddenly Trevor’s foot found a lever in the floor and it went down.  
Both he and Sypha stopped.

‘I didn’t do that,’ he said.

With a hissing sound, steam was fired out from under the coffin. The lid slid aside and Trevor tensed. It hit the ground next to it with a thud and a male figure with long blond hair floated out in the way that only one kind of creature did. Trevor’s hands wrapped around his weapons. If this was supposed to be the “sleeping soldier”, then Sypha was in for a disappointment.


	7. The Sleeping Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sleeping Soldier finally is found.
> 
> But _what_ is he?

Sypha watched, realising exactly who she was looking at.

The sleeping soldier stopped upright, and opened his eyes. He dropped his head. ‘Why are you here?’

Sypha smiled. ‘The story. The messiah sleeps under Gresit. The man who will save us from Dracula.’

To be honest, he didn’t look to pleased with the answer. He turned to Trevor. ‘And you? Are you in search of a mythical saviour?’

Well, that was disappointing.

‘I fell down a hole,’ Trevor stated. She couldn’t see that the soldier smirked at that.

Sypha shot him a glare. ‘Dracula is abroad in the land. He has an army of monsters. He’s determined to wipe out all human life wherever he goes.’

‘Is that what you believe?’ the soldier asked.

Sypha was startled at the question.

‘Dracula’s released his horde on Wallachia,’ Trevor said. ‘That’s fact. There’s no belief involved. But that’s not what you’re asking. No. You’re asking if I believe you’re some sleeping messiah to save us, and no. I don’t.’

‘Belmont!’ Sypha snapped. Now was not the time for his rubbish.

He ignored her. ‘I know what you are.’

The soldier smirked. ‘And what am I?’

Trevor narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re a vampire.’

Sypha was startled at the accusation. Why would the sleeping soldier be a vampire? She looked at him and he grinned, showing that he did, indeed, have fangs in his mouth.

‘So,’ Trevor said, ‘I have to ask myself: have we come down here to wake up the man who’ll kill Dracula, or did we come here to wake Dracula?’ He inexplicably snorted. ‘No, you don’t fit the profile. I don’t think you’re Dracula.’

The soldier cocked his head. ‘And how do you know I don’t fit the profile? No one’s seen Dracula in centuries.’

‘Perhaps not, but I have gotten a description of him from someone who did see him.’ Trevor gave a careless shrug. ‘Black hair, red eyes, long nails, standing at six feet and four inches. You’re the wrong colouring and you’re a little short.’

Wait, Trevor actually _knew_ what Dracula looked like?

There was a slight twitch on the soldier’s face. ‘That’s a very detailed account.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘She called you Belmont – House of Belmont.’

Trevor seemed amused at this for some reason. ‘Trevor Belmont. Last son of the House of Belmont.’

‘The Belmonts fought creatures of the night, did they not?’ the soldier asked. ‘For generations.’

Trevor’s eyes narrowed and he walked forward. ‘Say what you mean.’

Sypha was suddenly very, very worried.

‘The Belmonts killed vampires,’ the soldier said.

‘Until the good people decided they didn’t want us around,’ Trevor remarked bitterly.

‘And now Dracula is carrying out an execution of the human race.’ It could’ve been Sypha’s imagination, but the soldier looked amused. In that moment, the irony of the situation hit her. The people destroyed the Belmonts, leaving their only survivor an angry, sacastic wanderer, and then there’s suddenly a threat, a threat the likes of which the Belmonts were born and bred to stop, ripping humanity apart.

And there’s only one Belmont left.

If the family had been left alone, would Dracula have been stopped in the first wave in Targoviste?

‘Do you care, Belmont?’ the soldier asked.

This time, Sypha knew that he was asking if Trevor cared about the humanity that had destroyed his family.

Trevor paused and seemed to think. ‘Honestly? Part of me didn’t. I figured they brought it on themselves and they clearly didn’t want my help. So, no. But now...I think I see where she was coming from. It’s time to stop it.’

She? She who? Had someone pushed Trevor into going about killing the night horde?

‘Do you think you can?’ the soldier asked.

‘What I think,’ Trevor put his hands to his weapons, ‘is that I’m going to have to kill you.’

‘Belmont, no!’ Sypha protested. ‘He’s the one we’ve been waiting for!’

‘No, he’s not,’ Trevor said with a clear level of exasperation. ‘He’s a vampire, and he’s not been waiting her for hundreds of years, have you?’

‘I don’t like your tone, Belmont,’ the soldier remarked.

‘This place is old.’ Trevor glanced around. ‘But its not been abandoned. It’s alive and working. So, go on, vampire. Tell her exactly how long you’ve been waiting down here.’

The soldier narrowed his eyes before looking at Sypha. ‘What is the Year of your Lord?’

‘1476.’

‘That’s a year,’ the soldier said, surprising her.

‘There,’ Trevor said. ‘On top of that, what kind of messiah creates mechanical death traps to buy himself an uninterrupted nap – in a stone coffin?’

‘My defences were not for you,’ the soldier stated.

‘You could’ve told your defences that.’

‘They are machines, nothing more. They were not intended to protect me from you.’ He looked at him. ‘I asked you a question: do you care?’

‘I care about doing my family’s work,’ Trevor said. ‘I care about saving human lives. I’m going to have to kill you.’

‘Do you think you can? If you’re really a Belmont and not some runt running around with the family crest, you might be able to.’ A sword suddenly flew through the air and the soldier caught it in his hand. ‘Let’s find out.’

Sypha’s gut seemed to be in her throat as she watched this. ‘Belmont, you can’t do this!’

‘Tell it to your floating vampire Jesus here.’ His hand wrapped around the handle of his whip.

‘You’ve got nothing but insults, have you?’ the soldier moved forward. ‘A tired little—’ He was cut off as Trevor snapped his whip, throwing the soldier right across the room. He made a recovery though and Trevor pulled the whip back to himself.

The soldier lifted his head and snarled.

Had Sypha been paying closer attention to Trevor, she’d have noticed his eyes flash with interest and his fighting approach completey change. ‘Stone the fuck up.’ He cracked the whip again. The soldier dodged the next crack of the whip.

‘You can’t do this, Belmont!’ Sypha tried again.

‘He’s not your messiah,’ Trevor told her as he continued to fight. ‘A rare breed, certainly, but not totally unique. Besides, Reudi would never fight me seriously. I’m enjoying this.’

Wait, he was doing this for _fun_? And what did that even mean? A rare breed?

The soldier suddenly seemed amused. ‘So, you worked it out?’

‘A consecrated whip hurt you, but it didn’t destroy you upon contact. You’re either really old and powerful, or one of _them_.’ Trevor flung a dagger at him, only for the soldier to leap up.

Trevor manouvred the whip and threw him through a pillar and across the room. As the soldier pushed himself up, Trevor cracked his whip at him again. The soldier raised his sword to catch it. The two of them engaged in what essentially amounted to a tug-o-war over the whip, which ended with Trevor loosing his whip and charging with his short sword. The two of them moved so fast Sypha couldn’t really keep up with them.

Even when the soldier seemed to teleport away and appear behind him, Trevor reacted very well. While he was still knocked back, he did protect his front with his short sword and then, rather than hitting the stairs that led up to the coffin, he performed a perfect recovery and shot at the soldier once more.

The soldier teleported again and Trevor spun around, blocking the sneak attack sword blow the soldier had been aiming at him.

‘Hm,’ the soldier remarked. ‘So you have trained with one of my kind before. I didn’t realise there were any.’

‘There are thousands of years of human history to go back on,’ Trevor stated. ‘You expect that something like you never happened before?’

‘Fair point.’

The two of them engaged in fighting again and then Sypha realised – to them, this was a game. Especially given the tone the conversation took thereafter. It was almost...passive. Her mind began to turn. So, obviously, Trevor’s initial deduction about the soldier was wrong. He was not a vampire but something else. Trevor had realised this quickly and abandoned his plan to kill the soldier. All right, maybe not entirely but still...

Sypha’s heart though, leapt back into her throat as the soldier suddenly kicked Trevor back into one of the sets of stairs. In the next instant, he was upon Trevor, snarling and pinning him down and forcing his head back by gripping a handful of his hair. Trevor grunted in pain.

‘Do you have a God to put a last prayer to, Belmont?’ the soldier demanded.

Trevor grunted in pain again. ‘Yeah. Dear God, please don’t let the dhampir’s guts ruin my good tunic.’

‘What?’

Trevor plunged a dagger into the soldier’s chest.

The soldier grunted. ‘I could still rip your throat out.’

Knowing what she had to do, and hoping he wouldn’t ask her to explain herself later, Sypha moved, quickly striding over.

‘You can,’ Trevor said as she moved. ‘But it won’t stop me staking you.’

‘But you will still die.’

‘But I don’t care,’ Trevor said. ‘Killing you...was the point. Living through it was just a luxury.’

The soldier laughed. But, sure he was about to kill, Trevor, Sypha prepared her flame magic. The soldier stopped laughing and looked back at her. ‘I will incinerate you before your fangs touch that man’s throat.’

Thankfully, it wasn’t Trevor who asked, though he did look confused.

‘I thought I was your legendary saviour,’ the soldier remarked.

‘So did I,’ she said. ‘But he saved my life.’

The confusion on Trevor’s face instantly cleared up

‘You’re a Speaker Magician.’

‘Yes, and his goal is mine: to stand up for the people.’

‘Good,’ the soldier said. ‘Very good. A hunter and a magician.’ He stood up and let Trevor go, stepping back. As he stood, the wound Trevor had inflicted healed over instantly. ‘I am Adrian Tepes, known to the Wallachians as Alucard.’

Trevor pulled himself up. ‘So...Dracula had a human wife...And you’re their son?’

‘That is correct.’ Alucard dropped his head and laid a hand over the scar on his chest. ‘I’ve been asleep under Gresit in my private keep for over a year, to heal the wounds dealt by my father when I attempted to stop him unleashing his demon armies.’

Shocked, Sypha dropped her magic. ‘You are the sleeping soldier!’ So he’d already _tried_? Maybe Trevor was right, in a way. Maybe the legend wasn’t as straightforward as she and her people had been led to believe. Maybe there was a reason there had to be two others involved in the legend.

Alucard turned to look at her. ‘I’m aware of the stories. I’m also aware that the Speakers consider the stories to be information from the future. Do you know the whole story?’ There was a curious look in his face, tinged with a bit of amusement.

A particular line came back to her. _Upon Dracula’s defeat, the Hunter and the Scholar shall go forth. With their union a bloodline, nearly washed from the Earth, shall be born anew._ It was only then that the meaning of that part hit her. Trevor (the hunter) was the only thing standing between the Belmonts and the extinction of their bloodline. Which meant she and him were going to...Oooo! The thought made a blush come to her face and she kept her eyes on Alucard to avoid looking at Trevor (and to avoid the way her mind suddenly wanted to imagine what he’d look like naked). ‘Yes...’  
He certainly wasn’t helping with the way he was still splayed on the ground like that.

Alucard turned back to Trevor. ‘The Sleeping Soldier will be met by a Hunter and a Scholar.’

Trevor looked a trifle miffed. ‘No one told me that.’

‘Why do you think my grandfather tried everything to make you stay?’ Sypha asked him, happy to have a way out of that one – and hoping Trevor wouldn’t ask her why she blushed later. There was no way she could answer him honestly.

‘I hate Speakers,’ Trevor grumbled, moving up to his feet and retrieving his weapons as Alucard went and got his coat and shirt.

Alucard pulled them on.

‘So what happens now?’ Sypha asked.

‘I need a hunter and a scholar,’ Alucard said, taking his sword sheath and attaching it before telekinetically pulling his sword back into it. ‘I need help to save Wallachia – perhaps the world, and defeat my father.’

‘Why?’ Trevor asked.

‘Because it is what my mother would have wanted,’ was Alucard’s simple answer. ‘And we are all, in the end, slaves to our family’s wishes.’

‘You’ll help us kill Dracula?’ Trevor asked as he curled his whip back up. ‘Even though he is your father?’

‘My father...’Alucard hesitated. ‘...has to die. We three...we can destroy him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still debating with myself on whether or not to turn this into a series with each season being a new instalment.


	8. The Vampire Generals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to see how things are going on the vampire side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may change the format of this later. It looks like Castlevania is going to be around for a while and that will rack up quite the chapter count. It'll be easier to read if I separate it into sections.

Sypha bolted awake.

Taking a deep breath, she forced the nightmare from her mind and looked around. The rest of her fellow Speakers were curled up, spending their last night in Gresit before they moved on. They’d found the Sleeping Soldier and now it was up to the three of them to complete the next part of the prophecy.

Sypha turned her head, though, when she heard something out of place. She was surprised to see Trevor sitting against a far wall, writing something. Curious, she got up and moved over to him. ‘What are you doing?’

Trevor glanced up. ‘Writing a letter.’

‘To whom?’ Sypha sat down next to him.

Trevor looked over at her speculatively. ‘How much do you know about the Slayer?’

Sypha nodded. She knew the words by heart, and had often wondered at the implications. ‘Into every generation, a Chosen One is born. She alone will fight the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer.’

‘Know anything more?’ Trevor asked.

‘Only the basics. She’s generally called at the age of fifteen, give or take a few years, and she’s mystically empowered. The Watchers monopolise the information about the Slayer. There’ve been a few Speaker Slayers, so we know she gets prophetic dreams and there’s something in her blood that’s alluring to vampires and demons.’

‘It’s more potent,’ Trevor said, continuing his letter. ‘And it also serves as something of an aphrodisiac.’

Sypha looked at him. ‘How do you know that?’

‘Because a Slayer was called from my family in 1103. Her seven-year tenure was...extensively documented, by her, her father, and her brother.’

Sypha was surprised, but then she couldn’t think why. They were proficient and skilled. They held a duty to fight demons. It would be more surprising if a Slayer had never come out of their household. Then she realised exactly what had surprised her.

‘Seven years?’ Sypha asked. ‘Ours only lasted two years at the very most.’

‘With Watchers, no doubt,’ Trevor said. ‘Those bastards like having control of the Slayer. They generally try to isolate them and put a lot of stress on them.’

Sypha frowned as she thought about that. Now that she thought about it, she remembered quite a few of the stories entailed how the Watcher would constantly have the Speaker Slayer training or studying when they weren’t sending them out to fights. Watchers were not liked in Speaker communities – and it seemed they weren’t liked by the Belmonts either.

‘I guess you read the records of her time,’ Sypha said.

‘I didn’t need to.’ Trevor put his pen down and looked over the letter. ‘You know what happens to Slayers who hit the seven-year mark? They’re rendered immortal.’

Now Sypha was really surprised. ‘She’s still alive?’ At his nod, she realised. ‘That’s who you’re writing to?’

‘Well, I figure if we’re going to be fighting Dracula, we need someone who’s been there and done that. Yvette’s the one who gave me the description of Dracula.’

That...actually made a lot of sense. ‘I was wondering about that. You said Dracula hadn’t been seen for centuries, but you knew exactly what he looks like.’

Trevor smirked.

**Castle Dracula, Unknown Location**  
The Vampire King walked into the throne room, where waited for him his vampire generals and army, including two human forgemasters.

‘My generals,’ he said, ‘we prosecute a good war. In killing my wife, humanity has proven to me that they don’t deserve Wallachia. Wallachia will now become our seat.’ He walked across to his throne. ‘We will _scour_ them off the land! We will continue to use the Night Hoards. All the creatures of terror that humanity,’ and especially the now-extinct Belmonts, ‘once drove away. Afterwards, I think I will give Wallachia to them. Perhaps that will be better.’

He was silent for a moment.

‘Hector. Isaac.’ He called the two humans. ‘Present me with plans for our next steps today.’ He turned to leave the throne room and returned to his study.

Godbrand spoke up, the old Viking outraged. ‘The only two humans in your inner court, and they are the ones who will plan our next attack?’

Dracula stopped. ‘The only two generals in my court,’ he turned back to push the point home, ‘who are not driven by thirst. The only two who are bound by loyalty and intellect. True. They are not vampires like you and I, Godbrand, and _that_ is why I trust them. For we are about the business of wiping humanity from the Earth, and they still stand with me.’

He turned once more and left, but he still heard them behind him.

‘What the hell was that? He summons us from all over the world, tell us it’s war; we finally are putting the scour to the livestock and taking over! And now this? Turning the whole thing over to a couple of humans?! What is this shit?! Hey! Where are you two going?’

‘We’re going to talk to him,’ Hector said.

‘Why would he want to talk to you rather than me?’ Godbrand demanded. ‘Perhaps he wants to meet with his own kind.’

‘Godbrand,’ Hector responded, ‘you’ve never met anything you didn’t immediately kill, fuck, or make a boat out of.’

‘I don’t understand why our Lord doesn’t tie you up outside with the rest of the animals,’ Isaac remarked.

And that, Dracula mused as he listened to Godbrand go off about the boat comment, was why he’d rather talk to the humans.

When they arrived in his study, though, Dracula was standing behind his seat, head bowed.

‘Master,’ Hector said, and Dracula looked back at them.

‘Hector. Isaac. You may approach.’

Isaac did first, lifting a hand to his chest respectfully. ‘We are honoured by your faith in us. But, to serve you correctly, we have to ask.’

‘Yes,’ Hector said.

Dracula looked mournfully at the flames. ‘Did you hear Godbrand out there? “Livestock”, he said. So many of my kindred are the same. They can no longer conceive of humans as thinking beings. Just livestock.’

Isaac walked over and stood by Dracula’s side first.

‘It’s the privilege of our condition, I suppose,’ Dracula mused. ‘You can’t hate livestock. They are simply what they are: grazing animals to be slaughtered.’

Hector moved forward to stand by Dracula’s other side.

Dracula lifted his head. ‘But you two are different. You are human. You are not looking at the scouring of humanity from the earth as an opportunity to get the livestock under control, and to fill stables and abattoirs and pantries. You hate your species. You hate humans. You have a focus of clarity that the others lack. You understand that humans think and scheme and betray. You understand why they all must die.’

Isaac lifted his chin. ‘Yes. This is the world we were born for. Thank you.’

‘Yes,’ Hector said. ‘Thank you for clarifying, master. We will try to direct the war accordingly. I only hope your generals will...listen to us.’

‘They will have no choice,’ Dracula assured him. ‘They obey me. You are my chosen authors of the war, and so they will obey you. The matter is closed.’

Hector looked back into the flames. ‘Of course.’

Inside his head, the words of his mother rang in his mind; the memory clear as day. _I never wanted you, Hector! You sicken me. Do you understand? The moment you came out of me, I knew you were wrong!_

His father’s voice joined hers. _Alchemy is for money and power, boy. Money and power and buying our safety are all that matters. Stop whining about cruelty. This is the world. This is the way things are. Get away at once._

Yes.

_Hector? Hector, unlock this door at once! Are you burning something out there?! Their joined screams were music to his ears._

‘I understand completely.’ People like them deserved to die.

Isaac put a hand on Dracula’s shoulder. ‘It’s going to be all right. We’re going to kill them all for you. They will suffer.’

Dracula lowered his eyes. ‘The suffering doesn’t really matter to be anymore, Isaac.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Only the death. Only the death matters now.’

**Gresit**  
Alucard sat halfway in direct sunlight in the ruined hut where the Speakers had set up camp for their stay in the city. Belmont and Sypha were seeing the caravan off at present. As for Alucard, he himself drew in the sand with a stick. The faces of his parents appeared in the sand as he did so.

‘Alucard, they called me. The opposite of you. Mother never liked that. Did you know that? She hated the idea that I might define myself by you; would be in opposition to you. She loved us both. Enough that she wanted us to be our own people, living our own lives...making our own choices. And so here I am: choosing to honour my mother by killing my father.’ He dug the stick into the side of his father’s face, and then slashed across, destroying the image. ‘No longer Adrian Tepes. Choosing to be Alucard of Wallachia, the name of my mother’s people.’ A single tear escaped him. It fell and his mother’s image was damaged. ‘I’m sorry, mother.’

The sound of footfalls caught his attention and he turned his head.

Alucard dashed his stick through his mother’s image. ‘And so we begin again.’


	9. Forgemasters and Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is unrest in Dracula's court.
> 
> Meanwhile, our trio decide to head out and rendezvous with an immortalised Slayer.

**Dracula’s Castle**  
A small puppy, normal except for the evidence of decay on its tiny body, trotted over and began playfully hopping at his leg. Hector smiled and leaned down. ‘Little Caesar! What are you doing?’ He picked up the puppy and scratched him below the chin.

Godbrand spoke up from behind him. ‘He’s not really doing much, Hector. It’s dead!’

Hector frowned as he patted his pet. ‘You really don’t understand the act of forging, do you? He’s not dead. We make life from death here.’ He looked down fondly at the animal.

‘You make soldiers for Dracula,’ Godbrand said, ‘which is one reason why he invests so much in you despite your…’ he made a disgusted sound, ‘humanity.’

Hector’s jaw clenched and he looked over his shoulder in distaste. ‘What do you want, Godbrand?’

‘I actually came to apologise for my outburst in the war hall,’ Godbrand said as he paced around the room.

Hector looked at him. ‘Excellent apology.’

Godbrand ignored his sarcasm. ‘Dracula brought us all here to fight his war, Hector. All the vampires under his reign.’

Hector snapped a rib out of the corpse he was working on and fed it to Little Caesar. ‘The war. Not his war.’

As Godbrand continued, Hector set the dog down. ‘It’s just somewhat galling to have him look to the two humans in the room first. I should have held my tongue, so I apologise.’

Hector walked over and picked up his hammer. ‘Accepted.’

‘But…’ Godbrand walked over and leaned on the table as Hector began to work, ‘the other Generals and my subordinates have some questions.’

‘Oh?’

‘Hector, do you think this war is going well?’ Godbrand asked.

Hector responded with a question. ‘Are we losing?’

‘No, of course not. But it seems chaotic. Undirected, as if we were lashing out at humanity without any real plan beyond wild destruction.’

‘I think wild destruction is what he wants.’

‘There should be _order_ , right?’ Godbrand insisted. ‘Even in the removal of a species from a place, wars have orders, plans, and maps, and lines that could be done in less of a—’ He cut himself off as Hector turned his head and looked at him. Godbrand lifted his hands peaceably. ‘It could be done more carefully.’

‘Ah.’ Hector looked back at his work. ‘There is more wanton bloodshed than I would like. I don’t love the rest of humanity. I don’t wanna share a world with them but…’ He sighed. ‘The suffering.’ He turned as the doors opened behind them and a pile of corpses was dragged in from the last raid.

‘The last of the dead from Gresit?’ Godbrand asked.

‘Yes,’ Hector said. ‘The Night Hoarde took as many of their victims as they could for the forgers.’

The cart was tipped and the bodies spilled out onto the floor.

‘This’ll do.’ Hector nodded to the vampire soldiers. ‘If there are any left, take them to Isaac.’

Hector then lifted his hammer upright and pressed his hand to the symbol on the handle. A blue glow erupted from the hammer and soon engulfed the entire tool.

‘Ah,’ Godbrand said, ‘the Devil Forgemaster at work again, raising the dead. At least there’s no more mistreated dead pets,’ he looked down as the dog ran over, looking for attention, and kicked at it, ‘to add to your collection.’

‘If you’ll excuse me, Godbrand,’ Hector swung the hammer back, ‘I have work to do.’

He then brought the hammer down onto the stone slab where the corpse rested. The glow extended out from the hammer and enveloped the corpse. He struck again, like a blacksmith striking the blade of a sword into shape. The open torso of the corpse closed up. The skin turned a dark brown-grey colour and the eyes began to glow blue.

Suddenly, the whole structure began to shake.

Hector paused in his work.

Godbrand looked up. ‘He’s moving the castle again.’

‘Yes. His wonders to perform.’

***

Dracula stood before the orb.

He lifted his hand and raised his first two fingers. The hexagonical orb began to move to his command, faster and faster. The gears in the castle began to turn. The orb rose up and grew larger and larger as it turned faster and faster. The castle vanished. When it reappeared across the country, the land around was obliterated.

Trees, the land, even rivers were crumbled and thrown to the wind.

The animals had sensed it coming and attempted to run, but no animal – not even the fastest in this area – was fast enough, being rendered to dust.

**Gresit**  
‘I’m a nice person,’ Trevor insisted. ‘I am! I know how to be nice.’

‘No, you don’t,’ Sypha said.

‘I do. I’m nice to everybody.’

‘Then why are most of these stories you’ve told me in the last few days about you arriving somewhere and then getting punched in the face?’

‘That’s because...’ Trevor fished around for a moment, ‘...everyone else is a horrible piece of shit.’

Sypha didn’t buy it. ‘See?’

‘What?’

They stepped into the shack. ‘So, how do we proceed?’ Sypha asked.

‘Have the Speakers left?’ Alucard asked.

‘Yeah,’ Trevor said.

‘I’m sorry,’ Alucard said to Sypha. ‘On success, I’m sure you will see them again soon in far happier circumstances.’

Trevor moved off to the side to sulk.

‘See?’ Sypha asked him. ‘ _He_ knows how to be nice.’ She then frowned. ‘Is it true, then? The castle can...travel somehow? We know the stories but...sometimes it’s hard to separate myth from truth.’

‘Tell her about Dracula’s castle, Alucard,’ Trevor said as he opened a crate and began rummaging around. ‘Our day can’t get any more ruined.’ Sypha presumed he already knew. Yvette must’ve already told him. It made Sypha wonder just how much the immortalised Slayer knew.

‘Dracula’s castle moves.’ Alucard confirmed it. ‘How to describe it...It travels without moving. It appears in new locations, as if by magic.’

Trevor pulled a glass bottle out. ‘Yvette told me it also destroys everything in the immediate area when it lands.’

‘Well, then, your Yvette is well-informed. Anything caught up in the shockwaves is instantly disintegrated. Water is thrown as if a tidal wave is striking.’

‘There has to be some way to trap it,’ Sypha insisted. ‘How do we start?’ She looked at Trevor. ‘Would Yvette know?’

‘Probably. Which is why I want to go home.’

‘Have you been drinking again?’ Sypha demanded.

Trevor looked back at her. ‘Some chance. But, no. I want to go home. The old Belmont Estate. When I wrote to her, I told Yvette to meet us there.’

‘I was under the impression it was destroyed,’ Alucard remarked. ‘Villagers, pitchforks, torches, that sort of thing.’

Trevor dropped his head. ‘It was.’ He straightened up. ‘But the value of the old house wasn’t the house itself. It was what was underneath it: the Belmont Hold. Our family library and trove.’

‘The collected knowledge and material of generations of Belmonts who fought the creatures of the night,’ Alucard mused. ‘That sounds interesting...if it survived.’

‘It did survive,’ Trevor stated. ‘The day after the attack on our family, Yvette returned to the ruins to check the Hold; to see if my parents had escaped to the Hold.’

‘I presume they didn’t.’

Something in Trevor’s facial expression tightened. That was all the answer they needed. ‘If there are solutions to the problems of finding and killing Dracula, they are in the Hold.’

Alucard studied him a moment. ‘You’re guessing though.’

‘I _am_ guessing, but I am also confident that I’m right.’

Alucard smiled. ‘Fortunate indeed, then, that I chose not to kill you and eat you then, Belmont.’

‘And that I decided against gutting you, flaying you, and turning you into shoes, Alucard,’ Trevor retorted.

‘Such a merry band we are,’ Sypha remarked as she turned to head off. ‘I will find us a covered wagon and horses if you two can manage not to kill each other while I’m gone.’

‘Oh, please,’ Alucard said. ‘We’re not children.’

_I wonder about that,_ Sypha mused as she continued off. _I really do._

They waited until she was gone.

‘Eat shit and die,’ Trevor said.

‘Yes,’ Alucard retorted, ‘fuck you.’

And then the two of them had a good laugh about it.


	10. Enter Carmilla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new player enters the field.

**Belmont Slayer Estate**  
Yvette had the parchment open and read as she walked through the woods.

Rather than going in her front door, though, she circled around. Trevor’s letter, and his request, had been clear. Looked like he wasn’t alone, though. He would arrive at their old childhood home – or what was left of it – with a Speaker Magician and a blood damphir. The reasons were clear.

Both of them had been working to stop the Night Hoarde. There were, however, only two of them. The only way to do this was to cut the problem off at its source. That meant going after Dracula again. Last time, she’d been but a girl, fighting alongside her father and her brother. Of the three of them, she’d been the only one with anything inherently special about her to speak off.

Perhaps...

Yes. She believed Trevor was right.

It was time to return to the Belmont Hold.

**Dracula’s Castle**  
The army and the generals waited on Dracula’s arrival.

‘No, no, no!’ Isaac responded to a suggestion to one of the vampire Generals. He never cared to remember the man’s name. ‘Dracula will decide, not you. Threaten me all you like. I will die for him if I don’t kill you first.’

Hector was having the same problem with another of the generals. ‘You do not question my loyalty! All I’m saying is that our goals can be met without gleefully paddling in the blood of children!’

At that moment, though, Dracula entered the war room. ‘Enough!’ he commanded. ‘I told you all that Hector and Isaac would guide our next steps. You will cease this infantile squabbling!’

But the arguments did not stop. Only Hector and Issac backed off.

‘I said _cease_!’ Dracula barked.

Then squabbling did stop, but not on account of Dracula’s orders. Rather, because the door to the war room swung open. Everyone spun around and watched as a tall, thin, and blonde vampiress strode into the room. She stopped at the appropriate distance and smirked at all the eyes that were on her. The doors closed behind her.

‘I am Carmilla.’ She bowed. ‘I am come from far Styria to join the war council.’

Dracula sat down on his throne. ‘Your presence was requested some time ago, Carmilla of Styria.’

‘Indeed.’ She straightened up and took a few steps forward. ‘But your mighty castle keep moves around. And with such mighty vampire generals advising you and prosecuting your war, what use could you have possibly had for a mere regional ruler? And yet, my Lord, your forces were repelled from a single city state. Your generals are in disarry.’

The generals in question ground their teeth.

‘So I feel that, perhaps, it is time to offer my insights to your great cause.’

Dracula was unmoved. He knew how manipulative she could be. He knew her story. ‘And what insights have you, Carmilla?’

Carmilla’s facial expression didn’t change as she then made a bold, and foolish, move. ‘Why was this new wife of yours never turned?’

The silence over the war hall changed. It went from shocked and tense to charged with agitation. The generals and the soldiers alike shifted. All attention was now focused solely on the king of the vampires and the Styrian vampiress who had just made her dramatic entrance before addressing him.

Dracula’s temper flared. His eyes became entirely red. His eyes narrowed. ‘What did you say?’

‘You married.’ Carmilla looked around the war hall. ‘You had a child. And yet you did not make her a vampire.’ She looked back at him. ‘Why was that?’ She was playing with fire and she knew it. ‘Were you simply keeping a human pet?’

The very thought that anyone could consider Lisa a “human pet” sent blind rage through his blood. His body began to shake as he pushed it down. He dug his claws into the arm of his throne and dragged deep grooves into the arm rests. He wanted to go down there and rip her throat out; rip her apart and splatter her across the walls.

But he knew Carmilla. She had always been manipulative and conivving. He knew what she was doing. He vaguely noticed Hector and Isaac turn to glare at the vampiress. And, yet, she continued.

‘And, if so, why is vampire society going to war with the world over it?’

Dracula rose. ‘I will speak with you alone,’ he snarled. ‘Attend me!’ He turned and stormed out of the war room.

Carmilla followed after, but there was nothing in her footfalls that suggested she knew what he’d do to her if she failed to answer for herself appropriately. The walk back to his study was good. It allowed him to rein in his temper. It allowed him to calm himself sufficiently by the time he sat in his chair before the fire. He stared at the flames as he heard her enter and waited for her to speak. Instead, she walked over and stood in front of him.

‘Yes?’ she asked.

Dracula cocked an eyebrow. Either she’d gotten careless over the years, or she had something up her sleeve that’d made her confident enough to do this. The look he’d given her must’ve been sufficient though. She folded her arms behind her back and retreated from him a few steps before bowing her head.

‘You wished to speak to me, my Lord.’

‘That was a dramatic entrance, Carmilla,’ he said.

‘It was not meant to disrespect you,’ she told him. ‘It was intended to unsettle a room full of men. I prefer in such situations to arrive with as many advantages as possible.’

‘And how is it that you were here?’ Dracula steepled his fingers.

‘Godbrand has been keeping me appraised of your castle’s position,’ she said simply. ‘Your current location was also advantageous.’

Dracula raised his eyebrow once more. ‘And why has Godbrand been in regular communication with you?’

‘I suspect he still wants to sleep with me,’ Carmilla remarked.

‘And will you?’

Carmilla laughed at that. ‘My Lord!’ She turned to the flames but still addressed him. ‘From another man that would be impossible impertinence.’

‘And yet,’ Dracula said, ‘I prefer to know my generals’ ties and compromises.’

Carmilla looked over her shoulder at him. ‘I may.’ She turned around fully. ‘If all the other vampire males in the world drop dead...and half the females...some of the animals.’

Dracula smirked and chuckled to himself. ‘Very good, Carmilla. Speaking about impertinence, you just denounced the choice not to turn my dead wife in front of all my generals.’ He glared at her. ‘What advantage does my anger buy you?’ She knew as well of the others that those who enraged him tended to die in a painful way.

One only needed to gaze out to humanity to see that.

She was remarkably calm, drawing his own suspicions to the forefront of his mind. ‘None. It’s a question they have all been asking themselves. I gave you an opportunity to address it, my Lord.’

‘Oh, so, you were helping?’ He seriously doubted that.

‘Of course, my Lord!’

‘Then why have you only just arrived? You were summoned some time ago. Surely I needed “help” much earlier.’

‘Distractions at home.’ She glanced down at the fire and then studied her fingernails in a rather convincing attempt to look nonchalant. ‘Securing my region. Villagers, pitchforks, torches, the usual.’ It was only now she looked back at him.

She was lying to him. He knew her. However, pushing for answers now would get him nowhere. His best bet would be to sit back and wait. He needed to let her play her hand, and only then would he act. She was ambitious, but also had grown up in the halls of power before she was turned, as he did.

And she had been raised a woman in the halls of power. She had been married off to a count at a young age, in a time of war. Her husband, so often away, had left her holding the power over his territory. She had very quickly learned how to twist men of all persuasions around her little finger. Dracula had seen her at it.

There was, of course, that brief time at the beginning of her vampire life wherein she lost all power, but she had seized it back. She had never been the kind of woman who would sit idly by, and she liked her power. That was one of the reasons she’d had designs for him in their early associations.

‘Rejoin the others. Hector and Isaac, my forgemasters, will be directing our next moves. I’m sure they would enjoy your...help.’

Carmilla bowed again. ‘As you wish, my Lord.’

She then left the study, but paused at the door.

Dracula began turning over in his head what she could be planning, but there was only one thing.

The same thing that always had motivated her.

Power.

**Belmont Slayer Estate**  
Yvette strode out into the stable and nodded to the stable boy who had the horse ready.

‘Will you be long gone, ma’am?’ he asked.

‘A couple of weeks, at most,’ Yvette said. ‘I’m only going to see some relatives.’

The stable boy nodded and Yvette mounted her horse.

It was time to go.


	11. Dracula's Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a night stop on the road, Alucard explains precisely what kind of world his father is aiming for.

**Wallachian Countryside**  
‘I’m still not completly clear on why you don’t catch fire in the daylight,’ Sypha said to Alucard.

‘Human bit cancels it out,’ Trevor said bluntly from where he was reclined on the other side of the fire.

‘Human bit?’ Sypha asked.

‘I am half-human,’ Alucard clarified. ‘My mother’s name was Lisa, and she was mortal.’

‘I would very much like to hear the story of how that happened,’ Sypha remarked.

Alucard gave a light chuckle. ‘She actually showed up at his front door. She found the castle and banged on the front door with the pummel of her knife.’

Sypha smiled. ‘She sounds interesting.’

‘Oh, she was remarkable. She beat on the door until my father let her in, and then demanded he teach her how to be a doctor.’

‘Wait.’ Trevor sat up suddenly. ‘Dracula taught a human woman how to be a doctor?’ He snorted. ‘What was first? Bloodletting?’ He laughed.

Still rude, but...Sypha could actually understand his sceptism at the whole concept. It was bizarre. Dracula was known, throughout the ages, as being a monster who destroyed. The idea that he knew how to heal, and that he’d taught a human woman how it was done, seemed so outrageous.

‘God, you still think you’re funny. My father...’

‘Dracula,’ Trevor cut in with a pointed tone.

There was a level of acquiescence in Alucard’s tone. ‘...is a man of science. A philosopher, a scholar. And knows things our society has forgotten three times over.’

Trevor and Sypha shared a look. Sypha wondered if he even knew things that may have gotten lost to the Speakers. That did occassionally happen.

‘Do you still not understand the enormity of what we’re doing?’ Alucard asked before turning to the flames. ‘He’s gone mad. And from that, there is no recovering him.’

‘Shame,’ Trevor drawled with no sympathy.

Sypha was tempted to reprimand him for it, but it occurred to her that all the stories indicated the Belmonts began demon hunting _because_ of Dracula. Trevor had probably been brought up with that mission in mind. He wasn’t likely to be very empathic to anything about this situation. It might even be fair to say that any Belmont would respond to this the way Trevor was.

Alucard ignored it. ‘It’s a tragedy. His repository of centuries of learning. He could have changed the world – I think he might have, if mother hadn’t died. She’d sent him out into the world, and that’s why he wasn’t there when the Bishops took her.’

‘She sent him away?’ Sypha asked.

‘She sent him to...travel, to learn the true state of the world, true nature of humans and how they live.’

That made it perfectly clear to Sypha. ‘She was...turning him.’

‘Imagine if he could’ve been,’ Alucard said. ‘All that knowledge, improving lives; if the religious inquisition hadn’t proven true all of his worst instincts about humans.’

‘And now he’s going to use her death as an excuse to destroy the world?’ Trevor asked.

Alucard averted his eyes. ‘Oh, the world will still be here, Belmont. Trees will still grow, birds will still sing, animals will still hump in the undergrowth. But you won’t be here.’

Trevor’s eyes narrowed.

Alucard looked at Sypha. ‘And you won’t be here.’ He looked back at Trevor. ‘None of you. The sun will still set, but you will not see it rise. There will only be Dracula, and his war council and the Hoardes of the Night. He wrote some great books, you know. He bound the covers himself and wraps them in the preserved skin of the people who he hated most. And he writes plans; I’ve seen them. Ideas of darkening clouds and making them as permanent in the air as the clouds of the north. Creates strange flying machines that push shrouds across the sky to block out the sun. Imagine it: a world without humans, under endless invented light, and Dracula and his castle – his revenge so complete that there is nothing left to do but look out over a world without art or memory or laughter, and know that he did his work well.’ His expression tightened. ‘That he did it all for love.’

A sound suddenly pulled them out of the horrifying image that Alucard was painting.

Trevor looked over his shoulder. ‘Did you hear that?’

Alucard apparently didn’t. ‘Animals humping in the undergrowth?’ He cocked his head. ‘Wait. No.’

The two men were very quickly on their feet. Trevor first as he quickly kicked dirt on the fire and extinguished it. ‘Which is the nearest town? Is it still Gresit?’

Sypha quickly mapped out the area in her head. ‘Haregesh is closer to us.’ The benefit of being born into a Speaker caravan was that she knew the towns of Wallachia like the back of her hand.

They all fell silent and hear the snarling of the Night Hoarde. It was time to stop them before they got to Haregesh. Trevor moved first, falling into habits that’d likely been ingrained into him from early childhood. He ran to the nearest large tree and swung himself up into it, going higher and higher to a doubtlessly far better vantage point.

Alucard turned and walked in the other direction. He walked towards the road, his hand wrapping securely around the hilt of his sword. They were obviously going for a frontal assault. Sypha closed her eyes and sighed before pulling her hood over her head. Speaker robes were designed to help the speakers blend into the countryside, and it was even easier at night.

If they needed her help, she’d be ready and remain unseen until then.

***

Alucard stood in the road, directly in the path of the demons.

They stopped when they saw him, surprise on their faces. Still, they knew who he was. The fact that they didn’t attack instantly told him that. Alucard stood still for a moment, letting them take him in. The two demons he knew to be Slogra and Gaibon looked at each other. Then he pulled out his sword and cast the sheath away. He flicked it around so the point was facing the demons and made one statement.

‘No further.’

Two of the lesser demons roared and charged. Alucard teleported, coming up alongside them and then stabbed, piercing both through the brains. They immediately erupted into flames. Alucard landed and flicked them off of his blade. He raised the sword in front of him again and watched the remaining demons.

Slogra and Gaibon attacked in their trademark attack. Those two demons preferred those particular forms for just that reason. Gaibon grabbed Slogra’s shoulders and lifted him up in the air before releasing him. Slogra came at Alucard with his spear. Alucard deflected the slash and then jumped back to avoid the stab. He then ducked from Slogra’s kick.

Slogra snarled and attack again, forcing Alucard to defend. The demon was ancient and Alucard was having a hard time finding an opening to attack, especially when he was attacked from the side by a fireball and had to duck and roll to avoid that. As he blocked Slogra’s attempted sneak attack, the demon bounced into the air only to be caught by Gaibon again. They came at him again.

_CRACK!_

Gaibon was struck in the head. Alucard looked over and saw Belmont, perched up in a tree. He pulled his whip back to himself and then jumped, sliding down. He came off the branch and was airborne for a moment. Slogra’s spear had landed just out of reach, and the demon was reaching for it. However, Belmont cracked his whip again and snatched the weapon out of the demon’s grasp.

Yanking the whip back to himself, Belmont grabbed the spear and rammed it directly into Slogra’s head as he came for his landing, knocking the demon back a few feet. If there was any doubt he was a Belmont, it was gone in that moment. Belmont stood up with a grin on his face, but soon they both had to dodge fireballs being thrown at them.

Just before a fireball nearly made its mark, though, they all stopped in midair. Instantly, Alucard looked over to see Sypha standing just on the side of the road. She promptly threw all of the fireballs back to where they’d come from. Two of the demons were destroyed and the third was never hit. The largest of them, though, the smaller fireballs bounced off of. That was because his throat glowed before he released a stream of fire at her.

Sypha’s eyes widened only for a moment before she put her hands up and projected a protective barrier around herself. The flames shot off to either side, even as Sypha was forced back and had to steady herself. Then she straightened up as the fire faded off. Alucard looked over in part annoyance and part amusement as he realised that Belmont was getting off on watching this.

Sypha took a breath and steeled herself.

The demon’s throat began to glow again.

Sypha immediately lifted her hands and held them as if she was holding a circular orb upright in both of them. A red glow appeared in the centre. The fire immediately became stuck in the demon’s throat. It began to groan and struggle. Sypha forced her hands to clamp together. There was an explosion of fire around the demon and, when the flames cleared there was nothing but a burning and fried head left.

One of the demons, though, had evidently survived and, still on fire, struggled up and began to fly away – back the way they come and away from the town – still on fire.

None of them bothered to try and stop him.

‘Nobody’s going to Haregesh tonight,’ Alucard said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the state of the world right now, I want to wish all my readers the best health.
> 
> Also, as an Australian, I would also like to assure non-Australians that we're not all running to the beach and violating social distancing rules.


	12. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The vampires get some new information.
> 
> It's...unnerving for them.

**Dracula’s Castle**  
Deep in the bowels of the castle, Isaac sat on a grating floor with his legs crossed and bare-chested. He lifted the flaggelation strap and lashed himself with it. He’d had to stop for a short time as he’d been growing numb to the pain. His mind flashed back to his childhood and the betrayal he’d suffered which had set him on this path.

He lashed himself again...and again...and again.

His mind kept flashing back.

He’d been whipped by a lash much like the one he currently held in his hand.

_‘You theiving little shit!’ His master whipped him again._

_‘I didn’t steal anything,’ Isaac had insisted. ‘I’m trying to learn.’_

_‘I found you dying on the street!’ his master snapped. ‘I gave you a home and fed you and all you were supposed to do was work quietly and watch my back, not go behind my back and fuck around with the tools of my trade! Sneaking down here, going through my books.’_

_‘I’m sorry!’ Isaac sobbed._

_‘What’d you think you were gonna learn?’_

_‘How...’ He looked over his shoulder at his master. ‘How to help you.’_

_His master had frozen a moment and then lowered the spiked lash. ‘Oh. You actually wanted to learn so you could help me do my work? Why?’_

_Isaac averted his eyes again. ‘Because...Please, don’t be angry with me anymore.’_

_‘Just tell me, Isaac. It’s all right.’_

_‘Because I love you.’_

_‘Oh. Oh, bless your heart. Even after everything in your life, you’re still a sweet boy who believes in love.’_

_‘I’m sorry.’ And then and there Isaac decided what he would do. He made the decision which would push him onto the path of a forgemaster. ‘I just wanted to help.’_

_‘I love you too.’ His master suddenly lashed him again. ‘That’s why I do this.’ He lashed him again. ‘This is how I love you.’ And again. ‘This is how I teach you.’ And again. ‘You stop fucking around...’ and again, ‘...and do as you’re told...’ and again. ‘...you never use the word “love” again!’_

_Isaac turned and lifted his arms. The lash wrapped around his arms. Rage had boiled in Isaac’s blood and he yanked it right out of his master’s hand.the lash fell loosely at his feet and Isaac charged. He leapt up and knocked his master to the ground and then he used the thumbs of his bound hands to gouge the man’s eyes out._

In the present, Isaac whipped his back again. ‘No such thing as love in this world.’ And he lashed himself again.

He heard Godbrand before the Viking vampire spoke. ‘From a party sent to Haredesh. Died twenty yards from our door.’

‘Haregesh is some distance,’ Isaac remarked as he continued to lash himself while the vampire soldiers put the demon down on the table behind him. ‘He must have flown all night.’

‘Why do you do that?’ Godbrand asked with a curled lip. ‘The whipping?’

‘Discipline. Peace. Choosing my own actions. And inuring myself to a world of horrors.’

Godbrand groaned. ‘Come on. Wake up. We have a horror right here for you.’

Isaac stopped whipping himself and got up to have a look. First, though, he gave Godbrand a hard look to make him back off. Then he looked back at the mutilated demon. ‘Imagine: so horribly injured, and so determined to come back to us.’

‘And crapping out a minute before it managed it,’ Godbrand put in. ‘Useless fucking thing. Now do your filthy human magic with it.’ He turned and stormed off.

Isaac turned. First he hung up the flaggelation strap before he approached the creature on the table. ‘I’m sorry.’ He petted the creature’s face. ‘You struggled so hard to come back home. So loyal.’ He took his forgemaster cleaver from where it was clipped to the side of the table. ‘Perhaps this is all loyalty buys in a world without love.’ He cut open its torso. ‘Pain in the night, and death at your master’s door. Perhaps that’s all that awaits me too.’ He set aside the cleaver. ‘But you didn’t mind. You came home, regardless. The lesson here is that I shouldn’t care either.’ He pulled the creature’s chest cavity open and took up a pair of organ shears and activated its power, causing a red glow. ‘Dracula will bring a pure world into being. I believe that. I believe _him_. I want, of all things, a pure world. A clean world,’ he pierced the creature’s heart with the shears and the corpse under his hands spasmed, ‘where there is only loyalty and only love.’

***

Dracula sat upon his throne as let the conversations around wash over him.

Then Isaac descended into the room and came to stand at the proper place before him, a more severe expression than usual upon his face. He did paused next to the throne, however, and murmured, ‘You’re so alone.’

Godbrand spoke up. ‘We have to admit that we’ve lost the party sent to Haredesh.’

‘Taking Haregesh is bloodshed for its own sake,’ Hector said. ‘There is not strategy here.’

That was one thing Dracula liked about Hector. He pushed for strategy. In another point in his life, it would have been better. Dracula kept an eye on Carmilla as she looked over at Hector, a calculating glint in her eyes. Still, he would have to wait to see what she was doing. She then spoke up for herself.

‘Haregesh has no real importance. You should have counselled an attack on Brailla.’ She walked over to the two men.

‘Why Brailla?’ Godbrand asked.

‘If you were serious about serving our Lord’s war,’ Carmilla said, ‘you would have seen that taking the biggest riverport town in the region was important. If you take Brailla, you prevent escape from Wallachia.’

Isaac continued his descent down to join the others.

Dracula spoke up. ‘Any city with running water is a city that we, as vampires, should approach carefully.’

‘Running water?’ Isaac asked as he joined Hector. ‘I’ve never heard of that affecting vampires.’

‘Death by running water hasn’t happened in many centuries,’ Godbrand stated.

‘Why not?’ Hector asked.

‘Look around,’ Godbrand said. ‘We moved into the middle of countries.’

‘I’ve been told that vampires couldn’t cross running water,’ Hector pointed out.

‘I’ve been on boats,’ Godbrand stated. ‘I’ve had baths.’

‘When?’ Isaac retorted.

Hector folded his arms. ‘Baths aren’t running water now, are they?’

‘Course they are,’ Godbrand said.

‘How can baths be running water?’ Isaac asked. ‘The water’s stopped being poured when you get in.’

Camilla interjected. ‘The Greeks used to bury us on small islands because the graves would be surrounded by running water.’

Godbrand, apparently, was still unconvinced. ‘I think I would probably feel like running water would kill me.’

‘Really?’ Carmilla asked sceptically. ‘Do you feel like poison would kill you? Of course you don’t. It’s a thing you learn. It’s not like we’re given a manual for being a vampire.’

Dracula grew fed up with the pointless conversation on running water, and he decided to stop it before it became a debate between Godbrand and Carmilla. He rose. ‘Enough!’

All turned to face him.

Carmilla moved over next to Hector and whispered to him, ‘Do you really think that’s enough, Hector?’

Isaac spoke up though. ‘Power is what matters in this world. I do not see how securing Brailla over Haregesh gives us power. Haregesh is an old, respected town.’

‘I must respectfully disagree with my fellow forgemaster,’ Hector told Dracula. ‘Taking Haregesh brings only terror and will scatter the human populace. Taking Brailla seals off one side of Wallachia.’

Well, this had never happened before. ‘Interesting, Hector,’ Dracula said.

Isaac spoke once again. ‘I must disclose that I revived the creature that returned. The party was attacked on the road. The assailants are unknown, but Haregesh is close to Gresit.’

Dracula narrowed his eyes. It would seem, then, that whoever had repelled his forces from Gresit may have been on the road and had intercepted the party heading for Haregesh.

Isaac looked up at Dracula. ‘We are quite certain that Alucard sleeps at Gresit.’

Certain, but not positive. His sleep was intended to heal him from the wounds Dracula himself had inflicted in his blind rage. If he had healed, he would have had the power to accomplish both feats. And he had the motive to do so as well. He had not wanted his father to wreck his revenge against the humans – had gained his wounds trying to stop him.

Isaac then continued. ‘And that there was recently a Belmont there.’

A stunned silence went through the entire room.

‘A Belmont?’ Carmilla demanded. ‘I thought they were extinct.’

‘No,’ Isaac said. ‘We believe our Lord’s son, Alucard, and the Belmont may have worked together to repel our forces at Gresit.’

Possible, even likely.

‘If there is a Belmont left alive, then should we not observe the ancestral Belmont home?’ Carmilla demanded.

‘Why?’ Godbrand asked.

Carmilla promptly lost her temper at Godbrand’s stupidity. ‘Perhaps on the general notion that Belmonts hunted the likes of us for fucking centuries! And if there’s one left alive, then it may have access to the trove of weapons and magical materials talked of across generations but never found, which they used to hunt us through fucking centuries! Am I making myself clear now?’ She then spun away from him and looked up at Dracula. ‘This is your War Council, my Lord?

Dracula stood there in silence, turning all of this new information over in his head.


	13. Doubts and Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmilla begins whispering in ears.
> 
> Yvette Belmont returns.

The corpse spasmed as Hector’s magic worked and it came into the form of a demon. He stepped back as it instinctively lashed out and crawled off of the table. He waited until it calmed down somewhat and then he stepped forward and laid his hand on its cheek to calm it. The demon panted for a few moments.

And then Hector smiled. He walked away as it fell into form and walked off to join the others.

He was surprised, however.

‘A new night creature,’ Carmilla remarked from one of the doorways. ‘Amazing. Hector, may we speak?’

Hector didn’t react but instead moved about cleaning up. ‘Well, I can’t stop you from speaking to me.’

Carmilla stepped into the room.

‘You’re vampire aristocracy, after all,’ Hector pointed out. ‘I’m a simple human.’ He looked at his hammer.

‘Your skills are a legend,’ Carmilla told him. ‘Our kind has never produced a forgemaster.’

‘Well, you didn’t have to. Before the war night creatures were...simply a species in hiding.’ He looked down mournfully at the tools of his trade. Poor things. ‘They either reproduced naturally or were created by acts of wild magic. Now they are soldiers. Their numbers have to be replenished. You didn’t need forgemasters until now.’

Carmilla chuckled. ‘But your intellect cannot be denied.’ She moved forward.

Hector ignored the surge of pride he felt at that statement. He turned away from her. ‘If you say so.’

‘I do,’ Carmilla said. ‘And Dracula himself clearly agrees. He listens to you.’

‘As much as he does to Isaac. Which is, frankly, not much.’

‘I believe you are actually worried about Dracula.’ Carmilla moved closer and folded her arms.

Hector turned away from her and put the hammer down. He let out a sigh. ‘I am. It’s...not like him to be indecisive. The fire in him has gone out somehow.’ He brushed his hands over the bloodstains on his forging table. ‘It’s as if we’re looking at the embers of a man.’

Carmilla turned. ‘There are things we can do that don’t require his decisions.’

Hector scoffed and straightened up to look at her. ‘Oh, I doubt that.’

She met his gaze. ‘There are.’ She turned to face him and leaned on the table. ‘It means nothing to the war effort if we sent a group to the Belmont home to begin a search for their Hold.’

As Little Caesar hopped up on his leg, he looked down. He briefly considered it as he crouched down to the puppy. ‘Why are you so fascinated by that?’

‘If anyone in all the world has tools or magic who can harm our Lord Dracula, it is in the Belmont Trove. We need to ensure it does not fall into the wrong hands. Simple.’

Hector patted the puppy as he considered. He’d heard talk of the Belmonts, of course, but he had no idea what about them scared the vampires so much. Besides, if there was only one left...what harm could one man bring upon an entire vampire army. Still, if it would set their minds at ease, he supposed so. ‘All right.’ He put Little Caesar down. ‘This is logical. I agree to that, but Dracula must approve the dispensation of troops.’

Rather than agreeing, Carmilla simply walked over to his desk. ‘How did you come to be in his service?’ she asked without turning to face him.

‘I met him over a year ago, when he was travelling. He sought me out, you know.’

‘Did he really?’ Carmilla asked as Little Caesar trotted over and looked up at her.

‘I was living in the East of Rhodes,’ Hector said. ‘Very quietly.’

Carmilla crouched down and patted the dog. He felt encouraged on seeing that.

‘He’d heard of me from scholars in town, and looked for me specifically.’ He gave a light chuckle. ‘We talked for hours. After his wife died, he came to me, asking for my help.’ He let out a breath. ‘Can you imagine? A man like that, asking a human for help? He was a giant,’ he let out another breath, ‘only a year ago. But now...’

Carmilla walked back over to the table and paused. She changed the subject. ‘It was my understanding that when a forgemaster reanimates a thing, it has total loyalty to the forgemaster and his goals.’

‘It does,’ Hector said.

Carmilla moved to his side, coming close enough for him to smell her perfume. ‘Make some troops that you can trust completely with whatever they find, and then help me convince Dracula to attack Brailla.’

**Wallachian Countryside**  
Trevor leaned back, watching the sky.

Sypha glanced over at him. He seemed so unbelievably bored. Or perhaps he was depressed. He was, after all, going to the ruins of his old home. Last time he’d been there...well, she couldn’t imagine it was bringing back too many fond memories. Suddenly he made a sound of interest and sat up.

Sypha was surprised as he pointed to something off to the left and she looked. It just seemed to be an extremely large tree. Apparently, that was what he was looking at.

‘That’s my tree,’ he said. ‘I used to play in that tree. We’re near the house.’

Of course, that explained why it’d gotten his attention. It was most likely one of the few fond memories he had.

‘It’s...’ Sypha hesitaed, ‘hard to imagine you playing.’

‘Yeah,’ he said softly. ‘I suppose so.’

She looked back at him.

There was a sad smile on his face. ‘It was everything, that tree. It was my house and my boat and my fort. Anything I wanted it to be.’

Which meant, before the church had beset his family, Trevor’s childhood was rather normal, demon hunting aside. He’d been a thoroughly ordinary boy with a mother and a father and a home, who’d played and imagined things. The only thing extrodinary about him back then was that he was born into a family of demon hunters.

Trevor turned and murmured, ‘Goodbye, tree.’

And that...well, it really broke Sypha’s heart a little.

***

It was a scent that got Alucard’s attention.

As soon as Sypha stopped the cart, he hopped out and sniffed again. It was a strangely pleasant smell but, at the same time, it put his instincts on high alert. Alucard looked around as he walked around the cart. He paused when he saw Belmont fold his arms and smile wryly as he watched somebody approach.

It was a woman, walking towards them and away from the burnt-out and hollowed Belmont home. She was easier an inch or so shorter than Belmont with long blonde hair and the same blue eyes he had. There were several weapons strapped to her and the Belmont crest was emblazoned on the sash she wore around her waist and it was also a golden pendant that hung around her neck.

The odd smell was coming from her.

‘Yvette,’ Belmont said. ‘How long did you beat us by?’

‘Not long.’ She spoke with only the faintest hint of a French accent. That was when Alucard realised who she was and why she smelt the way she did.

‘Interesting,’ he remarked. ‘I was under the impression that Slayers only lasted a handful of years. You must be at least two hundred years old.’

‘Close enough.’ Yvette studied him. ‘And you must be the dhampir.’ She then looked at Sypha and smiled before holding up some unlit torches. ‘Trevor told me you’re a Speaker Magician. Any good with fire?’

With a wry smile, Sypha lit them.

Yvette chuckled. ‘Very good with fire.’

That was how they ended up walking into the remains of the homestead with the torches, following Yvette.

‘This was your home?’ Sypha asked Belmont.

‘Yeah,’ Trevor said.

‘You grew up here?’ Sypha looked around and examined a blackened stair railing.

‘Yeah.’

‘I can’t imagine what it was like to grow up in a single place,’ Sypha remarked.

‘It was...’ Trevor hesitated as he watched Yvette slam her torch into the ground before she started shifting debris. ‘It was fine.’ He brushed his hand over a wall. ‘Wasn’t the worst way to grow up.’

‘How old were you when your family home was taken?’ Alucard asked.

Trevor let out a puff of air. ‘13...14, something like that.’

‘13,’ Yvette said as she pushed another slab of debris out of the way. She paused and looked back at him. Then shook her head. ‘I was going to ask if you really don’t remember, but I realise that time period was probably really blurred for you.’

Trevor grunted and shrugged. ‘Who remembers that sort of thing?’

‘You’ve been on your own since you were 13?’ Sypha asked.

Alucard imagined, as a Speaker, that must’ve been a horrifying concept for her. She was used to being surrounded by people. She’d have been raised to have a very strong sense of community and suddenly losing all of that...Alucard mused, ’13?’

‘Is there a point to these questions?’ Belmont asked, irritation clearly coming over him as he stood up.

‘I’m disturbed to find that I had more of a childhood than you did,’ Alucard said.

‘And your dad’s fucking Dracula,’ Trevor remarked.

All four of them began to chuckle at that.

‘All right.’ Yvette brushed her hands off. ‘Here it is.’

The other three walked over and looked down at the stone slab. The golden paint was still intact and the Belmont crest carved into it was not even chipped. Alucard couldn’t resist. ‘Congratulations. You’ve just discovered a big piece of stone.’

‘It’s the door,’ Trevor said flatly.

At the same time Yvette gave him a cheesy grin and then stepped forward. She stood over the slab and held a hand over the slab. She began to chant. It wasn’t a long chant but it was fast and clearly a chant that she knew by heart, and in a language long-since dead. There was a bright blue glow that grew out of the symbol on the door before the stone slab vanished.

Yvette then stepped back and gestured to the descending staircase before them. ‘Happy?’

Sypha smiled. ‘I know that language. That was an Enochian Ward.’

‘Well, we can hardly let just anybody wander down into the Belmont Hold, can we?’ Yvette said.

‘Well, well,’ Alucard remarked. ‘Naughty Belmonts, hunting all the terrible things of the forest but sitting on a magic door opened by a Cult Language.’

Yvette and Trevor both glared at him.

‘Would you like to walk down these stairs or be thrown down them?’ Yvette asked pointedly as Trevor started to descend himself.

‘But you know that the word Teloch means “of death”, right?’ Alucard asked.

‘Shut up,’ Trevor told him.

‘It’s the Magical Door of Death, Belmont.’

‘Are you coming or what?’ Trevor asked impatiently as Yvette shoved Alucard down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a very strong feeling that when Isaac and Hector finally meet Trevor Belmont (I don't count Isaac's encounter in the castle because he was focusing more on Alucard), they're going to be completely blindsided.


	14. The Belmont Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yvette, Trevor, Sypha, and Alucard descend into the Belmont Hold.
> 
> A little bit of history is explained.

Yvette led the group down into the Hold. At the top landing, they paused. She took the opportunity to look at the portrait of her father and sighed. He’d come to this country before she was born. Like Trevor, she’d been born and raised in this house. With a sigh, she’d begun to move again, descending to the place where most of the demonology she knew had been drummed into her head.

‘Belmont isn’t even a Wallachian name.’ Of course Sypha, as an educated Speaker, would notice that and question it. Yvette was more surprised she hadn’t brought it up earlier. If she had, she certainly wouldn’t be asking now. ‘That just dawned on me.’

Well that explained it.

‘No,’ Trevor said. ‘The family’s originally from the Kingdom of France, but we moved out of there a few hundred years ago. Just a few years before Yvette here was born.’

‘Moved or chased?’ Alucard asked, stirring up trouble again.

‘Moved, thank you very much,’ Yvette said. ‘My father followed yours out here, if you must know. Haven’t you heard this story?’ She shook her head. ‘Well, I’m not telling it to you. Let’s just say we moved to where the work is. We’re professionals, after all.’

‘What does that even mean?’ Sypha asked.

‘All the dark things moved to the east,’ Trevor said. ‘Inland.’

‘Probably to get away from all the running water.’ Yvette shook her head. ‘My father was Leon Belmont. He entered the region first and set up here. He built this house and dug the foundations for everything under it, before marrying my mother and settling down as much as demon hunters can.’

They stepped through the door and into the library.

Sypha looked around for a moment before using her magic to light the countless lanterns that lined the walls and illuminated the entire library. It hadn’t been touched since Yvette had come down here all those years ago, looking for Gabriel and Marie; futilely hoping that they were still alive.

Sypha rushed over and looked down, eyes taking in everything. Of course, to a Speaker, the knowledge contained in here would be a certifiable treasure trove. She leaned over and looked around eagerly. Alucard wandered forward too, looking around far more sedately. Both Trevor and Yvette had seen it countless times before though and put their torches in nearby groves before they walked over to the top of the stairs.

‘My God...’ Sypha murmured before handing her torch to Alucard so he could put it away as the two Belmonts had done.

‘The memory of this family...’ Trevor murmured. ‘All that’s left of us...’

‘Is it organised?’ Sypha quickly asked. ‘Is there a way to find things?’

Yvette went to answer but Alucard cut in. ‘I imagine one sacrifices a chicken and divines the location of the book you want from the intestines. Maybe these two have a crystal ball in here you could ask.’ He continued down.

‘Mind your tongue, boy,’ Yvette ignored his startled response before returning her attention to Sypha. ‘In answer to your question,’ she pointed, ‘see that tome on the lectern over there? It’s an index. My brother wrote the first one when we started losing track of the books we had.’

‘So this really is a mage collection?’ Sypha asked.

‘It’s the work of generations,’ Trevor said. ‘An archive of everything we’ve found or learnt since the days of Leon Belmont.’

Alucard separated to look at something else. The other three continued to walk.

‘Yvette, you said Leon Belmont was your father?’ Sypha asked. ‘What was he doing in Wallachia?’

They turned, though, and looked back at Alucard, who was looking at a collection of skulls. ‘Hunting Dracula,’ he said.

‘Oh, so you do know the story,’ Yvette remarked.

Trevor wandered ahead and murmured. ‘Here it all is, then. The last of us...’ Sypha followed. He walked over to the index. He passed it and let her look at the tome.

Yvette wandered over to the lecturn. ‘Are you looking for anything in particular?’

‘I’m kind of hoping your family might have a way to trap Dracula’s castle,’ Sypha said.

Yvette shook her head. ‘If we did, we’d have confronted him by now.’ She paused and rubbed her chin. ‘But...I think Gabriel was working on something to that effect when he died.’

Sypha looked at her. ‘Gabriel?’

‘Trevor’s father.’ She looked over and grinned when she saw where Trevor was ducking into.

A moment later they both heard him. ‘Bloody hell...Is that what I think it is?’

_Yes, Trevor. Yes, it is._

‘Careful, Trevor,’ Sypha called out with a smile. ‘You almost sounded excited about something.’

He ignored her. ‘It couldn’t be...Could it?’

Yvette grinned as she heard him struggling to pull the chest out of the hidey-hole it usually occupied. She was kind of ashamed of how she’d lost her temper back then, but at least it’d allowed Trevor to find this particular weapon so easily. He dragged the chest out before opening it. Yvette watched her brother’s direct descendant brush the dust off of the chest before using a dagger to break open the lock. 

There was a flash and a glow.

Had that been anyone _but_ a Belmont, the sealing spell would have killed them instantly.

A simple blood scan.

Once the glow faded, Trevor unflicked the catch and then opened the chest. He gasped and then murmured, ‘Beatiful.’

Sypha didn’t seem to agree. ‘What on earth is that ugly thing?’

‘That?’ Yvette asked. ‘It’s one of the most powerful weapons in the family’s arsenal.’

Trevor stood up. ‘I don’t believe they hid it!’ He pulled the chain tight. ‘It’s the Morning Star!’ He dropped one end of the chain.

Sypha flicked a page back and forth, obviously trying to work something out. ‘It’s all here. You’re right.’ She looked around. ‘This is quite amazing.’ Then she addressed Alucard. ‘Isn’t it? It’s amazing!’

‘Charming,’ Alucard said bitterly, still staring at the skulls.

‘You’re not even a little bit impressed?’ Sypha asked incredulously.

‘It’s like a museum dedicated to the extermination of my people, so no. Not thrilled.’ He turned on his heel and walked away from the cabinet with a look of disgust on his face.

Sypha looked at Yvette.

‘ _Oui_ ,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Reudi isn’t fond of this place either.’

**Dracula’s Castle**  
Dracula sat in his study, staring into the fire.

He smelt Godbrand coming before he heard the Viking enter. ‘May I speak to you?’

‘Approach, Godbrand,’ Dracula said.

‘I have a question.’ Godbrand walked into the study.

‘Go on.’

‘If you kill all the humans, what are we gonna eat?’

Ah, yes. _That_ question. He’d heard it whispered amongst his army, but this was the first time someone had actually directly asked him. ‘What?’ And it _would_ be Godbrand.

‘It’s very simple, Dracula,’ Godbrand said. ‘If you kill all the humans, where does the continuing supply of human blood come from?’

Dracula sighed and lifted a hand to his face. This was a question he didn’t want to answer. The simple answer was that he simply did not care. But he would not tell that to his generals. There was no need for them to know that. If he was lucky, the Belmont would wipe them all out. ‘I allow you to go on feeding raids when we change location. I have blood stored in cold cannisters. There are animals in the lower levels. You won’t go hungry, Godbrand.’

‘Not right now, no,’ Godbrand said. ‘But later I don’t want to be rationing myself on fucking pig blood.’ He walked over to Dracula.

‘Careful,’ Dracula advised him.

But Godbrand ignored him. ‘Pig blood gives me the shits. I’m sorry, but there it is.’

‘You’ll be taken care of, Godbrand.’

‘Yes, of course. Right. Except, what if we’re not? What if you just want to kill all the humans and you don’t wanna leave us enough to keep in camps to feed from?’

Dracula ground his teeth and stood, advancing on the Viking. ‘I will not be questioned by you.’ The other vampire seemed to finally realise he’d gone too far and backed off. Dracula backed him into a corner. ‘I have told you how it will be. The humans will die. You will be taken care of....Little Godbrand. Little vampire...little parasite. Little good are you who delights in making noise, pretending he is important, dangerous. Are you going to continue questioning me? Are you going to fight me, Little Godbrand?’

Godbrand averted his eyes. ‘No.’

Dracula leaned in menacingly. ‘Then why are you still here, making your little noises? Get out before I slit you up the middle and bite out your heart.’

Godbrand scampered off.

***

Carmilla had been waiting for Godbrand to come out of Dracula’s study. He stormed right past her. ‘And how is our Lord and Master?’

Godbrand froze and then spun around, clearly pissed off. ‘The old man has lost his mind. He’s gonna kill all the humans and leave us without any livestock! We’re all gonna starve to death!’

She straightened up and turned away from him. ‘Surely not.’

‘I’ll tell you another thing. I still wouldn’t wanna try him in a straight fight, but I have a strong suspicion he hasn’t fed in a while.’

‘Why would Dracula, of all people, go without blood?’ Carmilla examined her nails.

‘Because this isn’t a war, Carmilla. It’s a suicide. His wife’s dead and he wants to join her, and he wants to take all of us with him.’ Godbrand turned on his heel and headed off. ‘We’re all gonna die! All of us!’

‘Godbrand, wait!’ Carmilla called after him.

‘I’m not gonna fuck you, Carmilla!’ he snapped. ‘I’m too pissed off!’

‘You stupid bastard!’ She shot forward and kicked him down the flight of stairs before coming down to land on top of him when he stopped rolling.

‘What the hell was that for?’ Godbrand demanded.

‘To focus your attention.’ Carmilla leaned over him.

‘On what? Pain?’

‘On the fact that Dracula needs to take this castle to Brailla.’ She smirked. ‘Let me tell you something. I was turned centuries ago, by a vampire master who said that he was giving me the world. But, in time, he grew old and cruel, and mad. And I was bound to him until I decided to take back my world. I wasn’t going to be dictated to by mad, old men anymore. And then I come here to meet with the leader of our nation. And what do I find? A mad, cruel, old man. Never again, Godbrand. _Never_ again.’


	15. Action Required

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Godbrand is fed up with pig blood.
> 
> Yvette shows them the Distance Mirror.
> 
> Carmilla begins working on Hector in earnest.

Godbrand laughed as he led a charge after a group of human soldiers.

He launched himself up into the air and sliced a human through the head as he came down. The rich, delicious scent of blood wafted to his nose even as he chased the next human in his line of sight.   
‘Godbrand is here!’ he hollared as the human turned and attempted to defend himself. He shattered the human’s sword and took a moment to enjoy the shocked and terrified look on his face as he swung his own sword around and slashed the human’s head in half.

He easily caught up to the next two. He jumped on the back of the closest one and used him as a board to fly across the snow before slicing the next human’s head off. When he stopped on the human, he gave him a moment to lift his head and then stabbed him through the skull with his sword. He continued his hunt.

Then his prey came to a clifftop, with Godbrand’s own boat passing below. Godbrand charged at him. The human turned and raised his weapons in a vain attempt to defend himself. Godbrand laughed. ‘Ha! Brave livestock!’ He spot past him and then slashed his head off. ‘Look out!’ And Godbrand came to a landing on the deck of the boat below. He ran to the figurehead and hung off the edge of it, laughing uproarously.

‘Godbrand!’

It was a nice little dream.

Godbrand opened his eyes, and began to laugh. ‘Ah!’ He clenched a fist. ‘Blood!’ He looked at the guards at the door. ‘I’ve dreamed of my legendary life and now I am thirsty!’ He sat forward and slammed his hand onto the table. ‘Fuck your eyes, man! Bring me blood and beer!’

The two guards looked at each other. A third guard walked in.

But he was carrying a pig.

‘Oh, no, no, no. That’s not fair.’ He scowled and sat back. ‘Damn it all. That bloody woman is right.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Something must be done.’

**Belmont Hold**  
Yvette led the three of them over to a curtain that seemed to be hanging in a corner. She pushed it aside to reveal a broken mirror. ‘My fault, I’m afraid,’ she said. ‘I lost my temper and punched it.’

Trevor smirked. ‘That’s seven years bad luck, you know.’

Yvette pulled a face. ‘You’re no more superstitious than I am.’

‘Isn’t that a magic mirror?’ Sypha asked.

‘Also known as Distance Mirrors,’ Alucard said.

Yvette nodded. ‘Distance Mirror, Viewing Mirror, Transmission Mirror, they can even become portals to far-off lands if you have the right spell.’

‘I’ve never heard of that feature before,’ Sypha remarked.

Yvette grinned at her. ‘Of course not. It’s so rarely used that I’ve only seen it done once in 300 years.’ She looked back at Trevor. ‘This particular one is a simple remote viewing mirror. We can only see things that are happening in different places. We cannot use it to intervene in the events in any case.’

Alucard stepped forward. ‘A little of the activation language is chipped. A few of the runes need recutting, but workable.’

‘What are you going to do with a purely visual Distance Mirror?’ Yvette demanded.

‘I’ll think of something.’ Alucard looked at them. ‘You Belmonts have the most fascinating family junkyard.’

Trevor glared and pointed into his face. ‘You’re a cock-wad, Alucard!’

Sypha reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling it down. ‘Stop it.’ She pulled him out of the alcove.

Yvette raised an eyebrow. ‘When…exactly did your mother come pounding on your father’s door?’

‘About 20 years ago,’ Alucard said.

A peculiar smile came onto Yvette’s face. ‘I see.’

***

Meanwhile, Sypha stopped some distance away.

Trevor immediately leaned back agains the end of the bookshelf, glaring back over his shoulder.

‘You are an adult,’ Sypha reminded him. ‘You do not have to rise to his every barb.’

Trevor looked back at her. ‘He’s pissing me off like it was his job, Sypha!’

‘Grow up, Trevor!’ She paused and then moved to stand next to him. ‘Why is your name Trevor anyway?’

Trevor looked back at her, confused. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘I understand the Belmont now, but “Trevor” doesn’t sound very local either.’

‘Oh.’ Yeah. Fair enough question. ‘Well, so the story goes a Celt rode out here with Leon, back in the day, and his name was Trefor – with an “f”.’

‘Trefor.’ Sypha sidled up to him. ‘I like that!’

A rare playful mood overtook him. ‘Oh, it’s terrible.’ He glanced over at her.

‘Treff…’ She seemed to ponder for a moment. ‘Treffy?’

‘Oh, my God, no!’ Even as he turned his head away, he smiled and glanced back at her.

‘You are Treffy now,’ she announced.

‘Don’t!’ He lifted his hand to his head.

Sypha began to laugh and he couldn’t help but join in.

Okay, he’d take Treffy, but only from her.

**Dracula’s Castle**  
Hector was doing his best to dissuade Carmilla. ‘…But Dracula respects my skills. And the human world cast me out long ago. Why would I go against his wishes?’

Unfortunately, she was making a little too much sense as she followed him across the battlements. ‘Dracula has failed his own people. He believes that he fell in love with a human woman. He took a pet. You see that, don’t you?’

He wasn’t sure it was fair to call Dracula’s late wife a pet. She, too, had been betrayed by her own kind. ‘I believe he loved her. He is capable of love. That’s the source of his conviction.’

‘If you love something,’ Carmilla argued, ‘you act to keep it with you for as long as you can. Instead, he allowed her to be killed by other humans.’

‘He wasn’t there,’ Hector argued back. He attempted to warm up and continued walking. Or rather, began to.

‘He wasn’t, no.’ There was something in Carmilla’s tone that stopped him. ‘He was travelling like a human, at her whim. Not once did he consider protecting her. Not once did he consider making her a vampire and bringing her into our community.’

He headed off anyway.

‘You are loyal to Dracula and the Night World,’ Carmilla stated. ‘Aren’t you?’

He paused and turned back.

‘You would have protected her.’

Hector’s eyes widened, but only for a moment. ‘Of course I would’ve.’ He turned and continued on his way.

But he still heard Carmilla behind him. ‘Of course you would. But, for some reason, he considers us less important than the brief life of a mistreated pet. Does that sound sane to you?’

Hector paused at the door, tensed up tighter than a drum. He didn’t want to admit it, but she was making an awful lot of sense.

Reluctant to admit it, though, he made a dismissive noise and pushed the doors open before stepping into the warmth of the castle. ‘He sounds…confused.’

‘And now he has taken us to war,’ Carmilla remarked, following him in. The doors slammed closed behind her. ‘Should this war be prosecuted by a confused man?’

Hector picked up his pace. ‘I…I don’t know.’ He headed for his chambers.

‘Has it occurred to you,’ she moved and melted out of the shadows, surprising him, ‘a loyal servant of the Night World, a prized asset in our lives and wars, are, in fact, next to die?’

Hector froze and turned around. ‘What?’

‘You’re human, Hector,’ Carmilla reminded him. He tried to move away, but she melted out of the shadows again. ‘You threw in your lot with us because it was your path to greatness, and joy. But your loyalty counts for nothing when a man who has decreed death to all humans, yet would not make his love a vampire, rampages across the face of the Earth in mad fury. I ask you again: does that sound sane to you?’

Hector stopped. ‘He promised me that this would be a cull; that humans would be reduced in numbers and controlled.’

‘He is Dracula, Hector,’ Carmilla said in a kind voice. ‘Why would he tell the truth to a human?’ She laid a hand on his shoulder. She waited until he looked over his shoulder. ‘Even you.’

Hector pulled away. ‘I just wanna do my work, Carmilla. I love my work.’ He walked away from her.

‘I know you do,’ she said after him. ‘And I have a way of ensuring you will be able to continue to do it. You just have to answer one question for me.’

He stopped again and clenched his fists. ‘And what’s that?’

‘Are you prepared to abandon Dracula to win the war?’

Hector spun around, shocked. Then his expression tightened and he grabbed her wrist and dragged her into his forgemaster’s chamber. ‘You don’t say something like that out loud in this place!’

‘What matters more?’ she demanded, shaking him off. ‘Wiping the earth of the human you hate and submitting to your own death, or coddling a broken old man?’ She glared at him. ‘The castle must land at Braila, Hector.’

‘Why?’ Hector asked.

‘Because I wish it!’ she snapped. ‘The castle lands in Braila, by the river. Dracula’s loyal forces will leave the castle to take the town. My own forces will take the castle and unseat Dracula, saving your life. Going forward to surround and control the human race.’

Hector closed his eyes, for a moment considering it.


	16. Treasonous Plots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discontent and doubt breeds treason.

Hector breathed out a laugh. ‘Dracula…is powerful. Your forces alone may not be enough.’

Carmilla smiled. ‘You’re right.’ She leaned in. ‘Brilliant, Hector. They may not be.’ She turned and looked at the pile of corpses in the corner. Hector followed her gaze. ‘Which is why you must do something for me.’

***

The doors to the stable swung open and a group of vampire generals strode in.

‘Drinking fucking pig blood,’ Godbrand grumbled. ‘Fuck, no! We are the Generals of the Court of Vlad Draula Tepes, and we deserve a proper fucking drink!’ He saddled up his demon horse. ‘The maps say there’s a town twenty miles away from here. They will never see us coming up. Fuck them if they do!’ He mounted. ‘Tonight, we feed.’

The other Generals needed no encouragement.

***

Dracula assembled his Distance Mirror in front of him.

He knew that Godbrand had led the other Generals to rampage the nearest town, but he was beyond caring. A shard of the glass floated in front of him and Dracula used his nail to draw a rune onto it, activating what he wanted out of the long-since shattered mirror. The glass shards reassembled into their proper position. Dracula reached out and carved more runes into the mirror.

The runes then dissolved and he was shown an idlyic scene by a creek.

Grabbing the blanklet he’d laid over his books, Dracula threw it in. The blanket passed right through and he could see specks of sunlight on it. Dracula stared at the blanket. He seriously considered stepping through and letting the sun take him. But his revenge was not yet complete. He still had work to do.

Turning on his heel, Dracula walked out of his study.

He passed all the guards, who quickly moved out of his way and bowed, he passed Hector, hard at work, and continued on until he came up to Isaac’s forgemaster chambers. The middle-eastern forgemaster was studying a scroll of some description when he walked in. But he looked over when Dracula addressed him.

‘Isaac, I feel like the tone of the War Hall is turning against me.’ He turned his head. ‘Even Hector looks at me as if he no longer knows me.’

Isaac leaned forward. ‘I have respect for Hector.’ He looked down at his scroll again, this time pensively. ‘But he’s a gentle soul. He’s still a little boy; probably the same little boy who didn’t understand why he was beaten for keeping pets.’

Dracula chuckled at that. ‘Well, his pets _were_ reanimated dead animals.’ He walked over and sat down next to him. ‘Once can understand any parent’s discomfort with a dead cat doing a dance in the living room.’

Isaac looked at him. ‘He really only wants pets, you see. He really only understands pets. That’s how he percieves your war: to cull humans back to a small population, and then keep them in pens. He understands that.’

Dracula frowned. ‘That is partly my fault. He’s a child in a man’s body.’ His mind momentarily flashed back to his own son. ‘That does make him easy to lie to.’

‘You are Dracula,’ Isaac stated. ‘No one has a right to your true beliefs.’

‘Not even you?’ Dracula asked.

‘Not even me.’ Isaac went on. ‘You’ve given me purpose, and treated me with respect. A lie wouldn’t change that. You are unique. You don’t owe anybody anything.’

‘You, Isaac, are the only one I’ve told the truth to,’ Dracula’s eyes narrowed, ‘because I believe you are the only one who grasps the necessity of it all.’

Isaac looked over at him. ‘You rarely come to my working place. How can I be of service to you, Master Dracula?’

Dracula looked back at him. ‘Are you still my friend?’

‘Always.’

‘Then know that you may be alone.’

***

Isaac considered Dracula’s words for hours after he left, so as he lashed himself when Godbrand came into his workspace, the words he’d exchanged with the vampire king still rung in his mind.

‘I wish you would stop doing that,’ Godbrand told him. ‘It’s sick.’

Isaac looked at him. ‘The body is sick. It must be purged. It must be focused.’ His hand tightened around the whip. ‘This is holy work.’

‘How did Dracula draft you into his service, I wonder?’ he asked, wandering in front of Isaac and stopped a few steps off.

‘I make purity from human corruption,’ Isaac stated. ‘Human corruption is a stain on the world. It was a simple choice.’

Godbrand looked back at him. ‘Well, talking about choices, Carmilla’s making a lot of sense to me.’ He paced in front of him again.

Isaac lashed himself again. ‘In what way?’

‘There’s no plan!’ Godbrand stopped and turned back to face Isaac, even as the human continued lashing himself. ‘Dracula doesn’t act on _our_ recommendations. He barely listens to you and Hector. We’re just rushing around the country randomly.’

‘There is an intent,’ Isaac stated. ‘We don’t need strict battle plans. We simply follow his intent.’

‘We didn’t need to hit Gresit right away, you know,’ Godbrand stated, pacing in front of him again. ‘And we should have been made aware that Alucard was under the bloody city.’

Isaac tensed. Much as he hated to admit it, that was a fair point. But, the boy had turned against his own father. ‘Alucard is nothing. A spoilt child.’

Godbrand, apparently, begged to differ. ‘Alucard knows almost as much as Dracula himself, and he’s almost as strong. And, it turns out, violently opposed to the war because his human mother wouldn’t have wanted it, or some shit!’

Isaac said nothing.

‘I’m saying, it may be time for the old man to sit in his study and let the rest of us take care of this for him.’ He spread his arms to accentuate his point. ‘Do it right. Set up a livestock pens, and persue the war properly – without him.’

Isaac opened his eyes and looked at the vampire. ‘You would betray Dracula?’

‘It’s not betrayal...’ Godbrand leaned in. Isaac didn’t flinch back from his rancid breath. ‘...unless the old man decides to be difficult about it.’ He straightened up and (foolishly) turned his back. He began to walk away.

‘I see.’

Isaac attacked, lashing his spiked flaggelation whip around Godbrand’s neck and pulling it tight. Godbrand yelled in pain. He tried to pull it off and pull away from Isaac’s grip, but Isaac held fast. He might have only been a human, but he hadn’t survived to meet Dracula by being only as strong as the other humans around him.

Godbrand attempted to slam him back into his forgemaster’s table. But Isaac spun him around and tore the whip away. Godbrand’s throat was torn open and blood poured out. Isaac stepped back and folded his arms. Sure enough, the brash and foolish vampire tried to attack him. But the blood was still pouring from his throat and Isaac easily dodged, sending Godbrand staggering and collapsing to his hands and knees.

Isaac moved and struck him again, knocking him over. Then, casting his flaggelation whip aisde, he slammed his hand down into the open wound. The blood spray was most impressive and indicated he’d previously had quite the feast. Isaac then took a sharp knife from the sheath on his belt.

‘Thank you,’ Isaac said, ‘for revealing to me how the corruption of the world has made its way into Dracula’s court. Thank you for showing me the truth.’

Godbrand lurched and attempted to crush him with a scream, but Isaac quickly plunged his blade into the vampire’s heart.

And it wasn’t just any blade.

It was a forgemaster’s blade.

Starting from the stab wound, flames began to lick up and out. Godbrand screamed as he was quickly consumed.

His ashes fell through the grating floor.

***

Carmilla stood in front of her own Distance Mirror.

‘Assemble at Braila,’ she instructed. ‘Await the word. My work here is almost done. Nothing here but lost children and confused old men. The end of this will be practically merciful.’

There was a knock at her door and Carmilla moved the Mirror back into the case where she’d hidden it. She moved and answered the door. Dragoslav stood on the other side. He shook his head.

‘Really? How hard can it be to find Godbrand, of all people? There can only be a limited number of things in this castle that he can drink, sleep under, or attempt to have sex with. He must be somewhere.’

***

After the sun rose, the two forgemasters walked outside.

Isaac looked back at Hector paused to absorb the sunlight onto his face. ‘You can spend so long in a castle that you can forget how the sun feels. Don’t you think?’

‘I like the castle,’ Isaac said. ‘The stone stays cool no matter where we are.’

‘You like the cold?’ Hector asked.

‘When I’m cold I can eat meat or throw a cloak on. I spent my whole life in hot places. You can’t escape heat.’ He moved on again. ‘Keep walking. Vampires have sharp ears and you said we needed to talk.’

Hector followed. ‘You’re concerned about the others hearing us.’

‘I’m not a fool, Hector. If you weren’t concerned, you wouldn’t want the conversation out in the daylight.’

‘I just didn’t want to be interrupted by argument,’ Hector said.

Isaac would concede that point. ‘They _are_ good at arguing.’

‘I used to liken them to wolves or bats: a strong sense of community; acting as one. But, lately, I see the vampires as cats: swiping, hunting, or ignoring each other.’

As he thought. Pets were the only thing Hector understood. ‘You think of vampires as animals?’ Still, he wasn’t incorrect in his comparisons.

‘In a way. They are pure creatures. They have grace.’ They stopped and looked at a fox hunting in the river. ‘Animals don’t act in malice.’

‘Cats play with their food all the time,’ Isaac pointed out.

‘True. But it’s not malicious. There’s joy in it.’

‘Not for the food.’ Isaac moved on.

Again, Hector followed him.


	17. Labyrinth of Books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Belmont Hold is an absolute treasure trove for the learned.

**Belmont Hold**  
Trevor stared at the single candle that burned in front of him. He dropped his head back against the bookcase behind him. But he opened his eyes and looked over as he noticed Sypha had stopped reading and was leaning back against the booksheft just a few meters away from him. ‘You okay?’

‘Tired,’ she said.

He leaned forward. ‘Sleep then.’

Sypha hesitated. ‘A bit lonely.’

Trevor lifted his head and hesitated a moment. Then he lifted his arm, offering his blanket. ‘This old sheet is big enough for two. And nobody was ever lonely in this house.’

Sypha looked surprised but she smiled and walked over to sit next to him. ‘Thank you.’

He threw the other end of the blanket over her shoulder. Then he looked at her. ‘Is Alucard asleep?’

She looked into the candlelight. ‘He says he’s slept enough. He’s still poking around your family’s things with a look of plain disgust.’

Trevor had a chuckle. ‘Yeah, Reudi never had any desire to come in here for just that reason.’

Sypha’s lips quirked slightly before she went on. ‘It’s lonely even when you’re standing next to him. It’s strange.’

‘How so?’ Trevor asked.

‘I’m not sure.’ She struggled to find a way to articulate it for a moment. She hugged her knees to her own chest. ‘He’s intelligent, sometimes even witty in his way, and he’s certainly half-human. More than half-human – he’s a person in his own right. But it’s…like he’s a cold spot in the room. It’s not like your sadness.’

‘I’m not sad,’ Trevor said.

‘Yes, you are. But I can shout at you or tease you and get a reaction that lets me know you’re still in there. His sadness is like an icy well. It’s bottomless, and it swallows up your voice and anything you try to drop into it.’

‘Am I really sad?’

Sypha laid her head down onto his shoulder. ‘All the time. You don’t even notice it now. It’s just how you are. And then, sometimes, you’ll tell me nobody’s ever lonely in your house and offer me your stinky blanket.’ She chuckled.

He joined her. ‘In all honesty, that stink might not be my blanket.’

But she’d fallen asleep on him. He smiled and closed his eyes, gently laying his head down against hers.

On a higher level, Yvette watched – having been at a good angle to see it. _Maybe it isn’t the end of us._

***

The following morning Sypha carried a book down to where Yvette was sitting at the grindstone. The immortalised Slayer had her nose down and her eyes focused as she sharpened all of the blades in the Hold. She didn’t even pull her focus from the sword she was sharpening. ‘You know, I’ve always found it fascinating that Speakers refuse to write anything down but can read every language under the sun.’

‘It would have been a very poor education if we hadn’t been taught to read things to add to our memory stores,’ Sypha remarked. She paused and then closed the book in her hands. ‘But, I am coming to the conclusion that my people are idiots.’

‘How so?’ Yvette asked.

‘Maybe we should have written everything down,’ Syphra said.

Now Yvette did stop the grindstone and lifted her head. ‘Everything?’

‘Yes! All the things.’ She gestured to the library. ‘Look at this! Your family has more in this room than a million Speakers could carry across ten generations. This is insane! And the sheer breath of information about the castle…is staggering.’

‘Did you find anything useful?’ Yvette began to examine her blade.

‘Well,’ Sypha grinned sheepishly. ‘I do have questions about the Belmonts between you and Trevor. I discovered an entire box of spells about…penises.’ She lowered her voice to a whisper on the last one.

Yvette snorted inelegantly and laughed for a moment or two. ‘Oh, God, I’d forgotten!’ She composed herself. ‘The answer is rather simple. Some of those spells are made and stored by growing boys who survived childhood. Once brothers get to a certain age, they begin cock-measuring contests – a few times in our history, quite literally. Of course there’s a spell in there for when the brothers inevitably go just a step too far. That spell deflates them to a size smaller than they were originally. A few, though, are fertility spells. Our family’s always taken concieving children as a matter of the deepest importance.’

Sypha nodded. ‘So your bloodline may continue.’

‘Precisely.’

***

Alucard had sought out Sypha. She was in among the books, right where Yvette had pointed him. A lot of the books in the area looked and smelt newer. They would have been penned far more recently than a majority of the library.

‘What is the interest in this area?’ he asked, scanning the titleless volumes.

‘Evidently, Trevor’s father had something of a brainwave before he died,’ Sypha said. ‘He happened upon the idea that the castle might be trapped. He wrote to her about it, and she thinks all his notes on the issue are in this area.’

‘How ambitious,’ Alucard mused. ‘I see where Belmont got his reckless streak.’

Sypha sighed. ‘Stop testing him, Alucard.’

Alucard was silent for a moment. ‘I am concerned I have thrown my lot in with a demented infant.’

That brought a smirk to Sypha’s face. ‘I imagine he has similar concerns about you.’

‘I am also concerned that you enjoy it too much,’ Alucard stated.

Sypha paused. ‘And what is that supposed to mean?’

‘He is unreliable, emotionally damaged, and apparently very distracting to you while you should be focused on the task at hand.’

A flash of offence shot across Sypha’s face. ‘Oh, am I not working hard enough?’ she demanded sarcastically, striding off. Alucard kept following her, going over everything wrong with Trevor. He didn’t know why it bothered him, but he noticed her glance down at him, examining weapons below with appreciation.

‘…and he’s a drunk, and he’s self-destructive.’

‘Actually, I haven’t seen him drunk in the time I’ve known him,’ Sypha argued. ‘He smells of beer, yes, but not to that extent.’

Alucard made a face. ‘Anyone trying to hold onto him may well simply be dragged down with him.’

Sypha already knew what the issue was. ‘You’re afraid.’ She pulled down a new-looking book. ‘You’re worried that you might have made the wrong choice, so you’re trying to make him prove himself – again, and again by constantly provoking him. You forget, Alucard, Trevor didn’t get to finish out his childhood. Yvette may have tried but having a mob of people you know murder your family and raze your home to the ground will always force you to grow up quickly.’ She turned around and looked at Alucard thoughtfully. ‘He’s not the man here who may not have grown up.’

Alucard quickly averted his eyes and took a book down. ‘Well, that’s ridiculous.’

‘And if we don’t get this done, then we’re _all_ failing, aren’t we?’

‘We can’t fail,’ Alucard stated.

They were silent for a moment before something occurred to Sypha. ‘Wait. Get me that volume back there – with the red spine.’

Alucard moved off to get the book in question and then returned with it. ‘What have you found?’

‘I’m…not sure. The ritual language it’s written is has forked a couple of times over the years.’

‘Can you read it?’

‘Not without that book. It’s based on Adamic. I recognise the roots.’

Both volumes seemed to have been handled fairly recently. Alucard discreetly sniffed and immediately picked up a scent similar to Trevor Belmont’s, but not exactly the same. That would then indicate that the scent was that of the late Gabriel Belmont, whom Yvette had already referenced.

Sypha pointed to the book he’d retrieved. ‘Now, that book there claimed to be written in a language called High Remembrance, which I’ve heard of. This one has the Adamical roots and some of the structure of High Remembrance, I think. Give.’ She took the book from him.

‘I haven’t heard of Adamic,’ Alucard remarked in interest.

‘Take a look.’ Sypha handed him the book as she took the red one.

He began flicking through it. ‘Interesting. I see threads of Caldaic in it.’

‘You’re rather well-read yourself,’ Sypha remarked.

‘I had entirely different books under my childhood bed,’ Alucard responded. ‘My father was a polymath. My mother was a doctor. And I grew up very fast.’ He threw that last bit in when he knew he didn’t need to. It still stung a bit, her pointing out that Belmont didn’t have a proper childhood.

She obviously picked up on it. ‘What does that mean?’

‘I’m being literal,’ Alucard said, slightly embarrassed. ‘I aged very quickly.’

Sypha’s suspicious look morphed into one of surprise. Then she spoke with a light laugh in her voice. ‘That may explain something.’

‘What?’

‘Perhaps you’re just an angry teenager in an adult’s body.’

Alucard looked at her, shocked.

And then he realised that Yvette had already come to the same conclusion.


	18. Divergent Loyalties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac and Hector come to an agreement.

**Outside Dracula’s Castle**  
The two forgemasters stopped in the woodlands.

‘So,’ Isaac said and then waited.

‘The cats need herding, Isaac,’ Hector said.

‘That’s a good way to get your eyes clawed out, Hector,’ Isaac told him.

‘I mean it.’ Hector approached him. ‘Dracula gave us the task of creating a war plan. But between his generals and their fighting,’ he looked back at the castle mournfully, ‘and his own attitude…’

Isaac’s eyes narrowed. ‘And what attitude is that?’

‘He doesn’t care.’ Hector said it like it was a fact. He sincerely believed that.

‘He cares very much,’ Isaac told him. ‘He wants all of the humans to die. He’s quite clear on that.’

‘That hasn’t escaped me.’ And, like the restless child he was, Hector paced. ‘My point is that he doesn’t care how.’ He leaned against a nearby tree. ‘We’re failing him.’

‘Oh.’ See that wasn’t the betrayal he’d began to fear. That was Hector’s own doubts colouring his perceptions of events. He stepped away.

‘Yes. We need to assert an order to the war. We’re the agents of his rage, not paintings of him. We can’t just thrash around.’

Isaac leaned back against the tree he’d walked to. He was annoyed with the boy’s simplistic world view. ‘What do you want, Hector?’

Hector walked back over to him. ‘I want to present a united front. I want a plan. I want to move forward and get this over with in an orderly manner. I want you to agree to move on Braila.’ He let out a sigh. ‘I know that, strictly speaking, we’ve never really been friends.’

Well, that was an understatement if ever he heard one. ‘It seems counterproductive to cultivate human friends when we are engaged in the project of ending the human race.’

‘But we are on the same side.’ Hector put a hand onto Isaac’s shoulder.

Isaac glanced at it. ‘Is this where we kiss like Benedictine Monks from different monastaries?’ he asked dryly.

Hector looked suitably surprised. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard you try to tell a joke before.’

Isaac removed his hand. ‘You still haven’t.’ He moved off again, back to the castle, however.

‘All Dracula hears is the noise in the war hall,’ Hector said. ‘He needs us to be the clear voice over that noise. He needs us to speak in one voice.’

Isaac rebutted him. ‘He needs us to be loyal.’

Hector made a sound of frustration. ‘How is it disloyal for us to provide the guidance he requested of us?’

‘If it’s serving you, and not him.’ Isaac pointedly told him. ‘There are people in the Court who have their own plans; their own agendas.’

‘I am loyal to him and his intent,’ Hector insisted. ‘But he asked for a plan, and we need to give him one, unambiguously.’

He had a point there. Isaac leaned against yet another tree.

‘We go to Braila, prevent a diaspora by boat, and then proceed along the coast from there.’

Isaac was silent.

‘What do you say?’ Hector asked.

‘Well…’ Isaac turned back around. ‘It will please Carmilla, so I distrust it. _But_ , it would stop her from making mischief for the moment. And it would get the War Room pointed in the same direction.’ He chuckled and then smirked. ‘I imagine it would even make Godbrand smile.’

‘Yeah, well,’ Hector said in good humour, ‘don’t talk me out of it.’ He had a good chuckle himself.

The two forgemasters laughed as they headed back to the castle.

***

Hector stood in his forgemaster chambers and petted Little Caesar. ‘Isaac agreed.’

‘That’s good,’ Carmilla said behind him. ‘That’s very good.’

Hector put the puppy down. ‘And the Night Creatures I forged for you will arrive at their destination too.’

Carmilla walked over to him. ‘Hector, you are a marvel!’

Hector straightened up and looked at her. ‘What now?’

‘Now, we’ll wait a short while for Isaac to settle,’ Carmilla walked to his other side and took a gentle hold of his shoulder, ‘and then we’ll have him accompany us to Dracula. Present a united front. Dracula will have no choice but to agree to the request of both of his forgemasters.’ She gently took a hold of his head. ‘Brilliant, Hector.’

‘Hm. A quick, orderly, and merciful war.’

‘Just as you wished, Hector. You have caused this to happen. Be proud. I admire your resolve.’

***

Isaac studied the object before him and reached out. Touching the surface, it made a peculiar sound and rippled under his fingers like water. But it was still clearly glass. ‘Quite remarkable.’ He turned and looked at Dracula. ‘Carpathian?’

‘Indeed.’

He approached Dracula.

The vampire master smiled. ‘The last of the mirrors made by the Carpathian Scrying Hermits, 400 years ago.’

Isaac shifted thoughtfully. ‘I must learn more about Transmission Mirrors one day.’

‘There’ll be time enough,’ Dracula told him. ‘Soon the world will be silent.’

‘God, yes,’ Isaac murmured. ‘Listening to Hector made me wish for a lifeless world, all on his own.’

Dracula chuckled. ‘I find myself wishing you two were better friends.’

‘As I said to him, making human friends seems a little pointless given our current crusade.’

‘True. But, at the end, there will be only you and him.’ He closed his eyes.

Isaac glanced toward the door. ‘Presumably.’ He then looked at the flames. ‘He’ll be coming here to request you approve a move on Braila.’

Dracula opened his eyes again and frowned. ‘Why?’

Isaac faced him fully, standing totally at attention. ‘Hector doesn’t like it when the animals fight. Carmilla has the court whipped up. Discord is loud. It bothers him.’

Dracula winced slightly before lifting his chin. ‘Is he still loyal?’

‘Oh, I think so. There’s betrayal abroad in the court, but Hector is a simpler creature than that. He just doesn’t like the arguing.’

Dracula scowled and looked into the flames. ‘So the Generals are going to betray me.’

‘No,’ Isaac said, drawing his attention back. ‘If anyone actually approached the verge of that, they would be taken care of without you ever finding out about it, My Lord.’ He closed his eyes. ‘It is simply in the air, because they are frustrated.’

‘So,’ Dracula settled back into his chair. ‘If I let them go to Braila, they’ll stop scheming and whining?’

‘I think so. It will give Carmilla some power, but that’s not a bad thing.’

‘No.’ Dracula agreed. ‘The War Room will speak to you and Hector in one voice, instead of a dozen.’

‘Indeed. And, at the end of the day, you don’t care. So long as the war continues.’

Dracula sighed. He lifted a hand to his face. ‘Fine, then. I’m tired, Isaac.’ He closed his eyes. ‘There was a time that I would relish the details. There was a time…A time when the smallest details of death delighted me. I remember when the merchants of Cronshtan disrespected me. Spending a delicious few days gathering information about the town, and drawing my plans; stealing up the river at night; setting fires in the town, knowing that the merchantmen would send their wives and children out, but go to retrieve their most valuable goods before making their escape. 40 of them had offended me. At the time, I saw no reason to harm anybody other than those 40. And I painted my picture accordingly.’ He lowered his hand. ‘But those times are long gone. Let us just conclude this thing.’

The door to the study opened and Carmilla and Hector stepped in.

‘Isaac,’ Carmilla said, a tone of false surprise in her tone. ‘We were looking for you.’

‘I was admiring the mirror,’ Isaac said, gesturing to the object in question.

Carmilla was silent for a moment before she spoke up. ‘My Lord Dracula.’

‘My Lord,’ Hector began.

‘Yes, yes,’ Dracula impatiently cut him off. ‘We all know who we are. What do you all want?’

Isaac was impressed with it, not to mention the pissed look Carmilla gave them. Isaac just shrugged.

‘Very well,’ Carmilla said. ‘Hector?’

Hector spoke up. ‘We would ask you to consider moving the castle to Braila, to conduct a full-scale, destructive attack on the port.’

‘To what end?’ Dracula asked.

‘To seal it,’ Carmilla said, ‘and to discourage escape by river to the sea. Then we turn inland, having landlocked the humans and having turned their country into a prison.’

Dracula looked at Isaac.

‘I agree,’ he said. ‘They make a good case. It unites the Court. It lets us move forward.’

Dracula looked back into the flames. Then he sat back with a look of annoyance. ‘Braila, fine. Braila, it is. I no longer have the strength for these petty decisions! Amuse yourselves! We will go to Braila ourselves, so long as they all die. That’s all that matters. They all have to die.’

Carmilla and Hector looked at each other and nodded. Hector left first.

‘Thank you,’ Carmilla said before she left. ‘A great victory awaits.’

‘Yes, yes. I’m tired. Tell me when you’re ready for me to move the castle to Braila. Get on with it.’

Isaac went to leave too, but he found himself compelled to returned. ‘I will stay, Dracula, until this is done.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Dracula whispered. ‘So long as they all die. That’s all. They all have to die.’


	19. A Question of Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmilla lets her frustrations leak through.
> 
> Sypha finds the answer.

**Dracula’s Castle**  
Carmilla and Hector stepped out of Dracula’s study and began walking down the hallway.

‘What now?’ Hector asked.

‘Now I ensure my forces will be in place,’ Carmilla said, ‘then we meet the War Council and convince them that this was their plan all along.’

‘Some of them will wonder why this is where you’re interested,’ Hector pointed out, ‘after you so loudly brought up the issue of Belmont and Alucard.’

‘And I have already had you forge me the means to deal with that issue,’ Carmilla told him. ‘I am in control, Hector.’

Hector stopped. ‘You are?’

Carmilla stopped and turned, eyes piercing. ‘Yes.’ She gestured to emphasise her point. ‘He could have done it. You could have done it. Any of the generals could have done it. But I had to. Do you know why I had to do it?’ She moved forward fast, startling him into stepping back. ‘Because I am surrounded by children and animals and dying old men.’

As she advanced, he backed away.

Still, Carmilla went on. ‘There are perhaps four other women in this castle, and they all glare from the edges. Either disempowered by posturing man-children or too paralysed by sheer fucking rage to do anything.’

Hector narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. ‘And which am I? Child or animal?’

Carmilla smiled confidently. ‘Puppy. Somewhere between the two.’

Hector frowned. ‘I thought you wanted me to believe you respected me.’

‘I did.’ Carmilla turned her back on him. ‘Now you’re implicated so I don’t need to.’

Shock coursed through Hector, especially when he realised she was both right...and up to something far more sinister than she’d allowed him to believe.

‘You’re hip-deep in this now, puppy,’ Carmilla told him, ‘and the only way out is forward.’ She began to walk again. ‘Come along.’

Hector stood there, paralysed by shock and fear for a moment before he managed to recover and struggled to think of a way out of this. Nothing came to him.

_Damn that woman!_

**Belmont Hold**  
Sypha looked up as she heard the firm and sure footfalls of Yvette.

The blonde woman walked toward the table that Sypha had pulled herself onto in order to study. In Yvette’s hands, there was a stack of papers tied together. ‘Here. Gabriel was making notes while he was working on the same problem.’

‘Thank you,’ Sypha took the papers and began untying them.

Yvette went to leave.

‘Yvette, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.’

Yvette stopped and turned around. ‘Yes?’

‘When you took Trevor in...was he...this angry? As angry as he was when I met him?’

‘No.’ Yvette scowled. ‘He was angrier.’

‘Angrier?’

Yvette frowned. ‘I know that mob violence isn’t something new to you, Sypha, but you are a Speaker. You are a nomad. You are a minority, and a peaceful one at that. Your people are easy targets. And we humans, as a general rule, have always resisted things that differ from our understanding. We attack things that threaten our sense of security.’

Sypha frowned. ‘And how do Speakers do that?’

‘You are something outside of their daily routines. You do not live in houses. You own no property. You have no material possessions barring the clothes on your backs. You exist without all of the constructs they have made to give themselves the illusion of security. And yet you hardly differ from them. It makes them uneasy. It reminds them that their houses keep them no safer than the open road. You remind them that their material possessions are not as necessary as they imagine them to be. It makes them uneasy, so they lash out at you.’

She paused.

‘The other option is that these people are trying to make themselves feel powerful and in control by attacking vulnerable people who have no friends, no allies, and no homes.’ Yvette shook her head. ‘The point of the matter is that for your people, it is expected. For our family, it is not. We’re members of the nobility. We lived in a goddamn castle. Most will run away from demons, even if they’re armed, so a family that goes out of its way to fight them...Well, it’s very discouraging to a potential attacker. To a young boy’s mind, it would be inconceivable. Usually, we outgrow that mindset but, in Trevor’s case, it was ripped away from him. It’s understandable that he got angry after that. As a matter of fact he was so angry he tried to say “fuck it” and entirely give up the family business, such as it is.’

‘He tried to give it up?’ Sypha asked, alarmed.

‘He was fully prepared to do so.’ Yvette frowned. ‘Said they had obviously decided they didn’t want the Belmonts around. I had to spend years drumming it into his head that while we may not be wanted, we will be needed.’

Sypha paused and looked over. ‘So...Is that why he was so rude when I first met him?’

Yvette chuckled. ‘I’m sure his mother taught him better, but Trevor shoots you straight from the hip far more than his father ever did. At least you always know where you stand with him.’ She sighed. ‘It just wasn’t something I was ever inclined to correct.’

Now _that_ surprised Sypha. ‘Why not?’

‘Because it is his trauma, and his decision how he deals with it.’ Yvette folded her arms. ‘Different people have different ways of processing it when terrible things happen to them. Over 300 years, I’ve found the best thing to do is just let people deal with their internal problems in their own ways. Try to force them to do it another way, and it actually exacerbates the problem.’

Sypha winced. She remembered her grandfather’s insistence on letting people deal with their problems in their own ways as she was growing up. He’d always taught her that intervening in other peoples’ issues was more harmful than helpful; to try and force them to confront their problems. She didn’t doubt he had the same information as Yvette did, and it also explained why he was so tolerant of Trevor when they first met him while she’d been getting impatient with the man.

Last surviving Belmont, out by himself.

It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.

Yvette turned her head. ‘It’s the same with Alucard. He’s still just a kid whose mother was burned alive and whose father then went on a murder spree in response, and even injured him to the point that he had to retreat to recover for a year. Prior to that, he clearly lived in a very stable household. He’s dealing with it by focusing on the task at hand, but that’s just a...distraction.’

‘Is that another reason he’s provoking you Belmonts?’

‘Partially, I imagine,’ Yvette said. ‘But, you must remember, Alucard was raised by Dracula and a human woman. His mother may have heard of us, but his father actually had a history with us. So most of what he’s heard of us is probably very unflattering.’

***

Sypha quickly flicked through the books, seeking out what it was that Trevor’s father had been working on when he died. ‘Oh!’ She tapped the lines. ‘Oh, this is!’ She jumped to her feet and ran over to the banister. ‘Trevor!’

‘What?’ He was directly below, looking at a set of daggers.

‘I have something!’ she eagerly told him.

‘No,’ he said. ‘When I say “what”, that doesn’t mean I would like to ask even more questions.’

Yvette came around the corner next to him, looking far too amused for Sypha’s liking.

Aggravation rolled in her gut. ‘Would you...! Please, oh, you are the most annoying...Just stop!’

Trevor sighed and closed the case. ‘I’m coming up.’

He walked up, followed by Yvette and Alucard.

‘I think I found a locking spell!’ She explained as the other three made their way over to her. ‘Wait, listen. Your family have an entire literature here about the castle.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Yvette said. ‘We began compiling that when we realised that Dracula could actually move the damn thing.’

Sypha nodded. ‘They tried for centuries to eliminate its main advantage.’

‘Right,’ Trevor said. ‘So you can’t attack it if it just jumps somewhere else.’

‘Yes! So, some clever Belmont had actually formulated most of a locking spell.’

‘I think that was actually several of us.’ Yvette sounded thoughtful. ‘Yes, that’s right. My immediate nephew started the process and the generations after added onto it. I believe I’ve even thrown some effort into it.’

Sypha grinned at her. ‘A method to catch the castle and lock it down to a single location so that it can be invaded.’

‘Most of it?’ Alucard asked.

‘I can finish the final clauses of it myself,’ Sypha stated with confidence. ‘It’s all based on Adamical structures.’

‘I think you can,’ Yvette said. ‘As I’ve said before, no Belmont has ever been magically gifted. That’s why it was so very difficult for us. An actual sorceress might be just what we need to get it done.’

‘You keep saying that word,’ Alucard remarked. ‘Adamic...’

The two Belmonts stopped in front of her as Alucard climbed down from the section he’d been in.

‘Adamic is the original human language,’ Sypha said. ‘The one spoken by Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.’

Trevor looked over at her in interest at that.

She went on. ‘The one that was split into all other languages at the Tower of Babel by God, to prevent human cooperation.’ As she spoke Yvette turned her head away so her face couldn’t be seen. But her shoulders were shaking slightly.

Trevor and Alucard, on the other hand, gave her sceptical looks.

‘Is that...how you understand that story?’ Alucard asked.

‘Oh, yes,’ Sypha said earnestly. ‘The Speakers are the enemy of God. We live in cooperation and hide our stories inside ourselves, so he cannot strike them down in jealousy.’

Yvette snorted and promptly cracked up laughing. She held onto the banister and she burst into belly-laughs. The other three turned and looked at her. Sypha was about to ask what was so funny when she waved a hand. ‘I’m sorry!’ she said between laughs. ‘I just...pfft!...find it hilarious when Speaker culture...clashes with Christendom.’ She quickly composed herself. ‘Our versions of that story are very different!’

That surprised Sypha. ‘What do you mean?’

Trevor sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘The Christian version of that story has it as a punishment for humanity trying to build a tower to heaven and make war with God.’

Sypha drew back in surprise, but she could see the two men smirking right along with Yvette.

Suddenly though, the smirk melted away and Yvette’s head snapped up.

A moment later the entire Hold seemed to shake.

‘See?!’ Sypha insisted. ‘God hates me!’

‘That isn’t God,’ Yvette said. ‘That’s the opposite of God.’


	20. Breaking In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demons break into the Hold.
> 
> And find they have _two_ Belmonts to deal with.

**Belmont Hold**  
‘How powerful is the seal?’ Alucard asked Yvette.

And wasn’t that just an annoying question. Less that he was asking it, and more that it reminded her that while she loved her father, she loved her brother, and she loved her nephew, they did have some rather bad habits. And they had made more than a few oversights which this generation and the last had borne the consequences of.

‘That has never been measured,’ Yvette said. ‘Most, if not all demons, were stopped at the threshold of the house. They never got inside so you are actually the first non-human that ever even saw the door to the Hold.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘But certainly not the last.’ She strode over and slid open a compartment and pulled out a quiver of arrows.

‘You expect them to get through then?’ Alucard asked.

‘The door may be hexed,’ Yvette bucked the quiver to her torso, ‘but it is still just ordinary stone.’ She grabbed a bow out of the compartment and slid it closed.

‘How many?’ Trevor asked, wrapping his hand around the Morning Star.

‘1...2...Six or seven, I think.’

‘Your senses are that specific?’ Sypha asked.

‘They are when they’ve been trained.’

The unfortunate fact was that most Slayers – even the ones born into Speaker caravans – were too reliant on their Watchers. They counted on them to teach them what they could do and to interpret things that were within their own powers. They counted on men who couldn’t give a flying fuck whether they lived or died; didn’t give a shit about who they were and what they wanted out of life.

Yvette had never had a Watcher. When it came to her, their purpose was redundant, so the Powers had never seen it fit to inform them of her identity and location. She counted herself lucky that she had been born the girl she was. She’d been born into a family that had all the resources, all the knowledge, and all the training that she’d required. And, because they were her own flesh and blood, they actually gave a damn about her.

She had far more than any Slayer before her.

‘Can we get that magic mirror working?’ Trevor asked.

Yvette nodded. ‘The runes are sufficiently intact. I only broke the glass.’

‘I can’t do two things at once,’ Sypha pointed out as she rushed around, checking books and obviously taking note of everything she needed to know; everything that she needed to do to make this work.

Alucard had already moved off and grabbed the mirror in question. ‘I know some Caldaeic. I know how to operate a Distance Mirror. Which shall I do?’

There was a silence as they all looked around at each other.

‘I would figure on that, Alucard,’ Yvette said. ‘Now...There are two Belmonts, so we can fight the demons. You have some magic, but Sypha’s actually a sorceress. So...you operate the mirror.’

Alucard nodded. ‘We’re trapped in a box down here. We will be eventually overwhelmed. Unless we change the nature of the battle.’

‘Agreed.’ Trevor turned his head. ‘Sypha!’

She was rushing frantically over the books. ‘I’m close to getting it.’

‘I’ll protect you for as long as I can!’

‘I know!’

Yvette smiled and the two Belmonts went off running.

‘What are you so happy about?’ Trevor asked.

‘Ask me again in about ten years.’

_Hopefully, when there’s a new generation of Belmonts running about the place._

***

Trevor used the Morning Star to move up higher as Yvette just bounded up with all of her considerable Slayer strength. They ascended the many levels of the Belmont Hold easily. He just hoped they got something worked out before the demons managed to break through and down into the Hold.

His father had died before he could really teach him anything about how the seal worked. As a boy he’d really only come down here to study and train. After the attack on the family, it was Yvette who picked up where Gabriel Belmont had left off. At the time, he hadn’t really seen the point, but Yvette had persisted and, yes, maybe even guilted him into it.

He was glad she had now.

‘Can we make any kind of barricade?’ he asked his ancestor.

‘No.’ Yvette’s answer was sure and rapid. ‘When this place was built, it was done so under the assumption that nothing would ever be able to break in.’

The Hold shook particularly violently. She caught him and pulled him along a few steps until he’d regained his balance.

Yvette went on with her explanation as they ran up the final set of stairs. ‘The way my father, my brother, and my nephew were treated for hunting demons made what happened to your generation inconceivable to them. They would never have imagined the house could fall. They were prepared for demon threats and demon threats only.’ She shoved the door open and they ran through.

‘Well then,’ they stopped in the centre of the spiral staircase and looked up, ‘I guess we’ll have to deal with this now.’

Yvette’s eyes narrowed as she looked up and she drew an arrow out of her quiver. ‘And there’s one I want to deal with right now.’ She lined up her shot and, with a whistle, fired.

Trevor watched the arrow sail up. He’d spotted a certain marking on it before she’d let go. ‘Protected arrow?’

‘The best kind to shoot at demons.’

There was a roar and a huge mass of demon obscured the moonlight being let into the Hold. It quickly released a fireball at the arrow, and at the Belmonts. But the magic on the arrow activated and the flames arched around it, and dispersed, only lighting little flickering flames here and there. The arrow continued on its course, unimpeded and lanced right through the throat of the demon. It was hit and dropped the rest of the way down.

Trevor and Yvette both jumped out of the way before it slammed into the ground. Just for good measure, and to ensure it was really dead he supposed, Yvette walked over and kicked the head from the shoulders.

‘Firedrake,’ Trevor grumbled. ‘Just what we need in an underground room full of paper.’

‘Why do you suppose I killed him first?’ Yvette asked rhetorically.

***

Alucard stood before the mirror, working the runes. He didn’t have an awful lot of time but, thankfully, Distance Mirrors were designed to work quickly and he’d been using them since he was a boy. They were the primary source of communication for vampires. He’d learned, first, to use them for that ends. Then he had learned to use them for their other means.

He activated the mirror. The image of his father’s castle appeared. Alucard’s eyes glowed red. ‘There you are.’

**Dracula’s Castle**  
Dracula stepped into his navigation room and approached the orb.

‘Braila,’ he mused to himself as he walked around the orb. ‘Just to keep the peace between squabbling creatures who will starve and die before the end of the year anyway.’ He stepped towards it and lifted a hand. ‘Oh, well. So long as it brings silence.’

That was the important thing to his mind.

Silence...and his completed revenge.

He extended two fingers out and moved them in a specific way. He closed his eyes as the gears around him began to move and the orb began to hum. Then he opened his eyes once more and opened his hand fully.

‘To Braila then!’


	21. Two Battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor and Yvette fight the demons to keep them off of Sypha's back while Alucard focuses the mirror.
> 
> Carmilla makes her move.

**Belmont Hold**  
The castle vanished and Alucard gasped.

He growled to himself and began trying to find where it’d moved to.

**Braila**  
In the city of Braila, civilians were going through their routines for the end of the day, but suddenly a gust went over them. That was only the precursor to what would happen next though. There was a bright flash of blue and a shockwave – not that they’d know to call it that – went out. Streets were torn up. Buildings and their foundations were blown apart. The people nearest to it had their flesh and organs torn right from their skeletons. The survivors fled, screaming in terror.

At the end of it all, an impossible castle stood where it hadn’t before.

**Belmont Hold**  
This particular Distance Mirror had clearly been designed with the express purpose of tracking down his father’s castle. He quickly found it reappearing in a costal city. Not near it – _in_ it. His mother, he remembered, hadn’t liked his father moving the castle due to the sheer devastation it caused in landing.

Even now, Alucard could see smoke rising up from the base.

How many more people had to die?

**Dracula’s Castle**  
The doors to the Castle opened and the Generals stepped up.

**Belmont Hold**  
Trevor and Yvette ran up the stairs.

They both stopped as one of the demons smashed through the stair bridges above.

Trevor glared at them. ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’

The two of them leapt out of the way as a behemoth of a demon smashed through the stairs, but as it broke that level and sent both of them flying. Trevor caught himself using the Morning Star and drew out his sword. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled the chain from where it’d caught onto and jumped down at the demon, which had landed firmly on the ground. He couldn’t see Yvette but he didn’t worry about that quite yet.

The demon looked up and roared at him. Trevor stabbed down, but he bounced off the horn and had to recover quickly. Luckily for him, the chain of the Morning Star caught the horn in question and he used it to swing around and up onto the demon’s shoulders before it could respond correctly.

He quickly tucked the Morning Star away and brought his sword around across the demon’s throat. He pulled the sword hard, attempted to cut the head clean off. But the demon had a thick neck and it immediately began rearing and trying to shake him off. Trevor began to saw, hoping to get it done faster. It didn’t look too good.

‘Timber!’ Yvette suddenly yelled.

Trevor looked down in time to see her shoot under the demon and it abruptly screamed. He yanked his sword out as the demon fell. It broke through the last bridge. Pulling out the Morning Star, he used it to swing down as he watched the demon die. He landed next to Yvette who, by now, was standing ankle-deep in what looked like a river of blood.

The blood was all coming from the wound she’d inflicted into the demon’s leg.

It swirled around his boots, and he looked up. Almost immediately, another demon jumped down at him.

**Braila**  
Carmilla led Hector and the reanimated Bishop out of the stable at the side of the castle. They both held onto chains that were around the Bishop’s neck. Carmilla stopped at the water’s edge, and Hector and the Bishop stopped behind her. The looked across at the bridge, where Dracula’s generals and forces stood on one side, and Carmilla’s forces stood on the other. Dracula’s army was already marching ahead.

One side would soon die.

Carmilla and Hector sent the Bishop into the water. He stood crouched in it.

‘Bless the river, Bishop,’ Carmilla ordered. ‘Make the water holy.’

The Bishop rose, crucifix in hand, and began to chant in Latin. He dropped the crucifix into the river. A glow began to emanate from the water, starting from where the crucifix had landed. It quickly turned into a blue inferno, which wrapped around the undead Bishop. Even as he burned up, he continued chanting.

Then he fell into the water, gone forever.

***

The vampire Generals, and Dracula’s army, found themselves stopped by another batch of vampire soldiers. Curious, they watched as they vampires had lined up at the borders to the town. They brought catapaults forward but made no move to charge. The vampire soldier in charge lifted his hand.

Dracula’s forces tensed, believing they were about to attack. But a few of the Generals noticed that the chains attached to the catapaults went down into the river. They realised what that meant and a few of them gasped. The soldier curled his hand into a fist and the “catapaults” were activated, reeling the chains back.

The towers holding the bridges up had their foundations ripped out.

Several vampires plunged into the water and burned up as they sank in the blessed water.

All of the vampire generals made a hasty retreat.

**Belmont Hold**  
The demon landed, its blade glancing off of Trevor’s sword and it swung around to kick him backward, but Yvette was faster. With a swung of her sword, she cut the demon clean in half. It dropped to the ground and shuddered a moment, screaming, before it died. The two Belmonts looked up again to see two more demons coming down. 

Trevor yanked the Morning Star from his belt and lashed it up at them. They both dodged, but the resulting explosion sent the two human and two demons flying. Trevor and Yvette were blown through the door and wall and back into the Hold. While Trevor tumbled, Yvette flipped into a perfect landing. She’d probably done that before.

Trevor let out a breath and leaned up. ‘Probably just as well I didn’t get to play with the whip when I was a kid.’

Yvette chuckled. ‘To say the least!’

The two demons shot out at them and the Belmonts drew back. One of the demons flew overhead and knocked them both over the edge of the banister behind them. Trevor caught the creatures leg and flipped over to one of the bridges. Yvette just elected to hit something below and bound up to land on the banister next to him.

The flying demon landed and wrapped his wings around him.

‘Oh, I hate these guys,’ Yvette remarked. ‘The wings wrap around the whole body and deflect hits.’

At that moment the second demon landed behind them and they turned. ‘Well, that’s an evil-looking bastard,’ Trevor remarked.

‘All right.’ Yvette hopped down onto the bridge. ‘I’ll take Wing-Boy. You take the furball.’

Trevor turned.

‘By the way, the Morning Star’s just below us.’

**Braila**  
The catapaults fired off grapplying hooks and extended their own independant bridges out to the other side of the river. The bridges were then tightened to be capable of taking the weight of the men under Carmilla’s command. With the signal of their commander, they immediately began their charge across.

The only exception being the one bridge directly in front of them.

Carmilla strode past and grabbed Hector’s arm. ‘Move!’

‘What?’ He resisted.

Carmilla turned and got in his face. ‘You’re coming with me.’

Hector jerked out of her grip. ‘Why?’

‘You made your choice, Hector,’ she said. ‘You can’t go back to the castle now. You betrayed the Old Man.’

A look of horrified realisation came onto his face. ‘I...I...’

‘My God!’ Carmilla drew his attentioned back to her. ‘You’re still the baby who had his woodland animal corpses taken away.’ She turned away from him and flicked her hair back. ‘Isaac is still the indigent boy, getting beaten in the streets.’ She spun back to face him. ‘And Dracula is destroying the world in a tantrum because someone killed his pet breeder.’ She got right in his face. ‘You’re all nothing but man-children!’ Carmilla pointed and gave her order. ‘Get across the bridge.’

He was frozen though.

‘You’re mine now, forgemaster.’ Carmilla let her claws drift into his hair and over his cheek. ‘You have nothing left, but me.’ She pulled his hair hard, elicting a grunt from him, and then shoving him onto the bridge.

Hector staggered and looked back, jaw tight, But Carmilla quickly moved forward and pushed him, forcing him to keep walking. He only stopped to look back at the castle. Unfortunately, she was right. He’d let himself be played and now he had betrayed Dracula. He turned on his heel and ran across the bridge.

There were definitely not tears building up in his eyes.


	22. The Locking Spell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Trevor and Yvette fight the demons off, Sypha finishes the locking spell that the Belmonts began.
> 
> Carmilla shows her hand.

**Belmont Hold**  
Yvette drew an arrow as Trevor charged his demon.

Her demon stood there, wings protecting itself. They were very hard to hurt, that breed. But there was a few small points of weakness. And Yvette could see one of them quite clearly. She nocked the arrow and drew it back. Then she aimed...and released. The arrow sailed across the air and the arrowhead slid between the tiny gap between the wing and the underside of the exo-skull.

The arrow pierced its throat.

The demon fell back dead.

Yvette walked over and sliced the head from the shoulders.

***

Sypha moved quickly. She finally found the last piece of the puzzle. ‘That’s it!’ Jumping up, Sypha raced down to where Alucard was. She sharply stopped, though, when one of the demons landed heavily in front of her. It rolled up and looked at her, and then it began moving towards her – and her hands were full.

Her heart caught in her throat.

Trevor suddenly jumped from an overhead balcony and kicked it away from her and down an aisle. He caught himself on the banister before shooting forward to finish it off. Sypha continued on her way down to Alucard, book clutched to her chest. The dhampir was leaning against the mirror.

‘Do you see the castle?’ she asked, coming around behind him.

Alucard pointed. ‘Take a look.’

Sypha looked into the broken mirror and saw a castle with all sorts of strange outreaches and...were they upside-down towers? How on Earth had he managed that? But Sypha was much more concerned with the city she could see all around the base of the castle. The sooner they could move it away from there, the better.

‘Good. Keep focused on it.’ She moved over to set her books down. ‘I have to be able to see it to put my intent on it.’ She gave the notes one last look-over.

‘Your intent?’ Alucard asked.

‘That’s all magic is, Alucard,’ Sypha said. ‘Changing things in accordance with my intent.’ She turned and marched back over. ‘And my intent is to drag that grotesque thing here.’

Her hand tightened around the sheet of paper she had. The spell written down on it was what would give it power. This spell had been designed to use the written word. And goodness knew a solid object was easier to grasp. As the spell intended, she burned the paper and she could already feel it. The determination and dedication of three centuries of Belmonts were gathered in the palm of her hand. Her fireball quickly turned to a blue orb.

Sypha brought her other hand around, another orb in that hand, and crossed her arms across her chest. She curled her middle fingers in. The two orbs she did have fused and reached out jagged arms for the Distance Mirror – electricity. It seemed logical that the Mirror was here solely for this spell. Sypha closed her eyes and concentrated.

Then she snapped her arms apart and brought her hands together as an image appeared in the middle of the castle, over it – a three-dimensional hexagon that seemed to be rotating. That had to be the conduit that Dracula used to move his castle! Perhaps it was a device and it wasn’t actually moved through magical means. It wasn’t, after all, like any Belmont had seen the device before.

Truth be told, they were only guessing when they said he moved it through magical means.

Looking at it now, Sypha could hold her hands out like she was holding it. She could now take command of it.

**Braila**  
Carmilla’s forces came off the bridges and charged for the castle.

They came to the sealed doors and the commander stepped forward to examine them. Orders were given and a mighty battering ram – with the head in the shape of an actual ram – was brought to the door.

It was slammed into the door with all of the considerable strength of the vampires using it.

***

Inside the Castle, the remaining soldiers were being lined up in preparation for the imminent attack.

Zufall turned his head and looked at the remaining forgemaster.

Isaac stepped forward and overlooked the soldiers. But the sudden bang on the doors made both of them turn and glare at the doors, both tensed in preparation for the coming attack. The soldiers and the generals prepared themselves for the attack that was now literally banging on their front door.

Isaac narrowed his eyes.

The door burst open and the vampires streamed in, swords raised.

Dracula’s vampire generals led the counterattack.

Isaac killed all of the vampires that got in his way with hardly any effort. Yet he had a different objective in mind. He rushed up the stairs and to Dracula’s study. He found the vampire king sitting in his chair, in front of his fire, as if nothing was the matter. Had he not heard the chaos going on outside?

‘Dracula!’

Dracula turned his head. ‘Did we meet resistance at Braila?’

‘We’re betrayed at Braila,’ Isaac told him, and then glanced over his shoulder. ‘I do not recognise their colours, but the castle is invaded by vampire soldiers.’

Dracula scowled. ‘What colours do they wear?’

‘Black, with white trim.’

Dracula stood up. ‘That is the livery of Styria.’ He walked over. ‘Carmilla has made her move.’

At that moment, the entire castle shook. They both looked up.

‘What was that?’ Isaac asked.

‘I’m...not sure.’ Dracula looked back at him. ‘Do we have anyone else loyal to us?’

Isaac had no idea. ‘There is a pitched battle in the main hall. I gathered about a dozen more on my way up there. They’re outside.’

‘Then we go downstairs, Isaac.’ Dracula’s eyes blazed, looking more alive than he had in too many months. ‘Nobody takes my castle from me.’

***

If there were cosmic forces, they must’ve fallen about in laughter.

**Belmont Hold**  
Alucard watched in astonishment.

Sypha ground her teeth. Sweat dripped down her face. She likely wasn’t even aware of the fact that Yvette had walked over and stood just a few steps back, watching. She struggled against the force of the castle. ‘It’s...fighting me!’ Maybe there was some magic. ‘It’s...like I’m pulling against an anchor! And a waterwheel – all at once!’

‘He moves the castle using an engine,’ Alucard told her. ‘That’s what’s acting against you.’

At that moment, Belmont’s fight passed overhead and the demon obviously charged at him just a little too hard and went through the banister. It immediately plunged down.

‘Shit!’ Belmont cursed as the Morning Star jingled in his hand.

Alucard got ready to fight the demon off, but Yvette said, ‘Don’t bother.’

As she said that, he saw the glowing end of the Belmonts’ family heirloom shoot down and hit the demon. It exploded. Yvette pulled the lid off of a jar she’d gotten from somewhere and swung it in a wide arc at the flaming remains. The fire dispersed before it even got near them. At the same time, Sypha struggled with the castle and slammed her hands together.

**Dracula’s Castle**  
Dracula led Isaac and his soldiers down to the main hall.

He stopped and held a hand up as he heard something. ‘Wait.’ There was electricity crackling around the pillars of the castle. Dracula just about growled. ‘Magic!’  
Someone actually had the nerve to try and pick up his castle and move it.

The Belmont, no doubt.

**Belmont Hold**  
Yvette decided she’d made a very good call with this.

It would take a mage of Sypha’s calibre to do what Sypha was doing. Trevor really needed to get with her, even if they couldn’t get married, so that this level of magic was introduced into their bloodline. If they ever had to do it again, Yvette didn’t appreciate the idea of going out and actively looking for a talented sorcerer just for that.

Sypha grunted in effort. ‘Do...as you’re told!’

**Braila**  
Carmilla spun around and stared as blue lightning crackled around the castle.

She’d never seen such a thing before. Even though she knew what it meant, she was stunned. It was obvious the surviving Belmont had decided to end this now and was forcing the confrontation. But how the hell was he managing that? And, more than that, the castle actually vanished...and then reappeared a few feet away.

Then it happened again.

And again.

And again. And, suddenly Carmilla couldn’t worry about that. It had reappeared in the river, which meant she had a tidal wave of holy water coming right at her. Not willing to lose her forgemaster, she grabbed him and jumped out of the way. Her army, she knew, was as good as dead. That holy water would be going absolutely everywhere. The only survivors might – might – be the ones in Dracula’s castle.

And they wouldn’t live for very long.

They landed on a rooftop, but as the castle swung around, Carmilla had to grab Hector again and move him before the side of the castle hit the rooftop they were standing on.

The castle disappeared again – for good this time. It created a huge gust of wind, which centred into what was essentially a holy tornado. Anyone not standing in an area as well covered as she and Hector were would be sucked in instantly, it was so strong. She stared up at the place where the castle had been in shock.

Even though she knew intellectually, Carmilla breathed out. ‘What the fuck just happened?’


	23. Into The Lion's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A battle in Dracula's castle is stopped when a dhampir, a sorceress, and two Belmonts walk in.

Alucard watched through the Distance Mirror as Sypha focused on leapfrogging the castle through the countryside. He internally winced at the sheer destruction it would be causing, but he knew it was the best she could do. She got it to their location very good timing, because he saw the explosion of the engine room in the Mirror.

Sypha staggered back, and Alucard moved over to catch the Mirror before it fell. She let out a relieved laugh. ‘I did it!’

Beside her, Yvette folded her arms and cocked her head. ‘Yes, you did.’

Alucard turned. ‘Where did you land the castle, Sypha?’ he asked pointedly.

‘Right on top of us!’ She proclaimed in delight, clapping like an excited child. Then she froze and her eyes widened in realisation. ‘Oh. Hm. Yes. I…landed it on the surface, right above this underground space,’ there was dirt trickling down, ‘that’s probably only held up by wood and dirt.’

They were all silent for a moment.

‘Let’s go,’ Sypha said.

‘Trevor, we’re leaving!’ Yvette called.

‘Castle here?’ he asked, leaning over the edge of the banister, next to the broken bit.

‘Directly above us.’

‘Oh for God’s sake!’ He turned and headed up.

‘He’s so cranky!’ Yvette proclaimed like it was cute as she and Sypha took off after him.

Alucard took a few more minutes to follow.

Soon all four of them stood directly below the door into the Hold. They all looked up. There was a red tinge colouring the world outside that they could all see. And that red tinge had leaked in and fallen over all of them. Yvette, Trevor, and Alucard glowered up at it. Sypha looked up at it in confusion.

‘What is that?’ she asked.

‘A blood moon,’ Yvette said. ‘Only the most powerful vampires can induce them.’

‘Damn. This is gonna be hard.’ Trevor walked over and picked up his sword. ‘The staircase is a wreck. We’re not getting up there without ropes.’

‘Or option number two,’ Yvette said, looking up.

‘Which is?’ Trevor asked.

‘Well,’ Yvette looked at a damp piece of wooden debris, ‘this isn’t blood. It’s water.’ She returned to the group.

Sypha moved and the water under their feet transformed into ice. She folded her middle fingers into her palm and pressed her thumbs, forefingers, and pinky fingers together. ‘Here we go.’ The ice column began to rise up. They stood in silence as Sypha lifted them up towards the surface. Both Trevor and Yvette looked up as they passed the picture of Leon Belmont, that’d been knocked off it’s hook.

Trevor’s hand wrapped around the Morning Star.

As soon as the ice column reached the surface, the four of them walked over and jumped off of it. Then Sypha sent the entire ice column flying off into the woods. The other three looked over at her curiously. She smiled shyly and said, ‘Well, I didn’t want to leave it in there to melt and ruin all your beautiful books.’

Yvette chuckled. ‘Thank you.’

Alucard looked down at the mud and lifted his foot. ‘It seems damp enough out here as it is.’

Sypha looked over and gasped. She point. ‘But look!’

And there stood Dracula’s castle.

‘You did it, Sypha,’ Trevor said.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but...seeing it is something else entirely.’ She then grinned at him. ‘I’m pretty good, right?’

Trevor smiled at her. ‘You’re the best.’ He then refocused on the task at hand. ‘Alucard, are you ready for this?’

‘No.’ He wrapped a hand around the hilt of his sword. ‘But let’s put an end to this anyway.’

And the four of them moved off. All of them headed for the castle; to face Dracula and end his massacres.

***

The vampires continued fighting in the main hall as soon as the holy water was gone. Swords and lances clashed and claws tore into other vampires. Dracula and his remaining forgemaster had already withdrawn from the room for one reason or another. But, suddenly, every vampire in the room froze. Several of them began to shake in fear and all eyes widened as they registered what had just happened.

All eyes slowly turned to the castle’s entrance.

Four people stood in the room, glaring over all of them.

The most recognisable of them was Dracula’s son, Alucard. No one really paid all that much attention to the redheaded woman in Speaker robes with them. She was unknown to them and, therefore, not yet considered a threat. Far more attention was alotted to the dhamphir and the other two humans.

The blonde woman with the sweet-smelling blood had a wicked-looking blade in her hand. The Belmont crest hung around her neck, a golden pendant. Several of the older vampires recognised her but could not believe it. If she was still alive, that would make her at least three centuries old. And she was still human.

And that was not the only place the Belmont crest could be seen.

The brunet man had the Belmont crest emblazoned on his breast. It would later be seen that he also had it across his back. The Belmont family’s deadliest weapon – the Morning Star – hung from his hip as well. The scar over his left eye demonstated that, despite the silence of the family for the last decade or so, he had been fighting all that time.

Several vampires either gasped or ground their teeth.

The male Belmont wasted no time in yanking the Morning Star from his belt. ‘Yvette and I terrify them, Sypha disorients them, Alucard goes over the top, and we support him.’

‘Yes,’ the Speaker said, moving her hands so the more astute vampires realised that she was likely a sorceress.

‘Hm.’ The female Belmont lifted her blade in preparation.

Alucard lifted his blade, sheath and all. He let it hover there a moment before he pulled the sheath from the sword and discarded it. The sword remained floating a moment. He then telekinetically flipped it so that it was over his shoulder – something which was quite alarming to those who’d never seen his power before. ‘Begin.’

The quartet attacked and the vampires – both sides of the conflict – moved to meet them. Almost instantly, the female Belmont’s blade sliced the heads off of the nearest vampires to her. Then the Morning Star shot out. It hit one vampire and he exploded in an inferno that took several of the others with him.

The female Belmont grinned and hopped out of the way to let her male relative spin the chain and take out as many vampires as possible. If one was not fast enough, one simply died. And the female Belmont seemed to enjoy watching it, while the vampires found themselves having to dodge a firey and relentless death.

They were, in fact, so focused on dodging the Morning Star that the wall of fire took them completely by surprise.

Their only warning was a grunt from the Speaker.

And most of them did not even register it.

But they did register Alucard leaping through the flames in wolf form. He immediately charged through them and tore the throat out of one vampire before throwing him into a wall. Then he turned to face the others, snarling. One of the vampires stepped up to face him and held his lance out.

He struck and Alucard leapt out of the way. The vampire then spun his lance into his other hand but Alucard telekinetically called his sword. It flew over and speared right through the vampire’s arm, cutting it off. Alucard caught his sword between his teeth and tossed it through the neck of the vampire, killing him within a single second. Alucard then landed and returned to humanoid form.

He recalled his sword to him.

Then he attacked again.


	24. Battle Against the Generals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The vampires find themselves fighting the Alucard, a sorceress, the Belmont Slayer, and the Last Son of the House of Belmont.
> 
> And, boy, does it show.

As soon as Sypha created the wall of fire, Trevor withdrew the Morning Star and returned back to her side while Alucard shot past and into the flames. Yvette saw him transform as he went. With a precise movement, Sypha took advantage of the water on the floor and lifted it up into sharp icicle shards. Then she cleared the flames.

Judging from the fact that three of the vampires that then proceeded to charge them were not in anyone’s colours, Yvette would guess that they were Dracula’s generals. Sypha proceeded to shoot the ice shards at the vampires charging. With how quickly they dropped, and how many of them dropped, Yvette was going to guess that the water under their feet was blessed. That rather would explain why the only barefooted vampire she could see was doing her best to stay off the ground.

The three vampires diverged. The barefooted Indian vampiress came at Yvette. The Prussian vampire ran at Trevor, and the Indian vampire went at Sypha. She noticed, in her peripheral vision, Trevor and Sypha glance at each other before turning to their respective opponents. Moving with all the speed bestowed on her as the Slayer, Yvette shot at her aggressor and slashed.

She stood on the other side of the vampiress and fluffed her hair a moment.

Then the vampiress’s head fell from her shoulders, where Yvette had sliced right through.

The tingling in the back of her neck guided Yvette as the other vampiress attacked.

***

Sypha turned to the Indian vampire as he attacked her. She fired an ice shard at him but he slashed through it. He then attacked her, forcing her to back up as she used the ice shards to defend herself. She threw one at him, after he knocked a previous one to the ground, and he knocked it aside. Flicking her forefingers up, she caused a shard of ice to shoot up from the ground.

He recoiled back from it. Moving her hands, Sypha turned the single shard of ice into a wall, sending it after him like a sharp blade with a mind of its own. He began backflipping to get out of the way. As soon as he was near enough to the wall he leapt up and Sypha almost smirked – even moreso when the fool decided to run over the top of the narrow ice-blade to get to her.

Sypha slapped her hands together and waited. She waited until he got to the middle and then, with a grunt of effort, swung her hands upwards. The ice-blade followed her movements.

The vampire was cut clean in half.

***

The vampire swung his lance at Trevor.

Trevor dodged and flicked out the end of the Morning Star. But the vampire deflected it and knocked him back with the blunt edge of the lance. Trevor twirled the Morning Star back around his wrist. The vampire slashed at him with the lance, Trevor partially dodged it and partially deflected it with the family weapon. He flicked the Morning Star out twice, but the vampire dodged both times.

So...he decided to try something else.

He deflected yet another attack from the lance and then swung the Morning Star out to its fullest. The vampire tried to deflect it with his lance again, but the Morning Star had been designed to be _very_ flexible. Trevor manouvred the chain. The vampire grunted and ground his teeth as the chain wrapped around him entirely and Trevor pulled it tight.

The end came just about level with the vampire’s face and began to glow fire-orange. The vampire’s eyes widened. Trevor shot forward and elbowed it into the vampire’s mouth before kicking. The vampire went flying backwards, away from Trevor and landing among a group of his own kind before he exploded, taking them with him.

***

Yvette leapt out of the way and bounded off a stone column to come back at the vampiress. She slashed across the neck with her blade, but the vampiress turned to mist at the last moment. As she waited for her enemy to reform, and killed off the vampire soldiers that attacked her, she noticed Trevor and Sypha finish off their respective vampires while Alucard was fighting a Russian vampire.

As she came to rest in a crouch, Yvette watched the vampiress begin to reform in front of her. But she did not entirely take back her form. Instead, she remained in mist form. Yvette could still make out her facial features though, and she saw her smirk. Then she lifted her hand and began her attack.

Only for her entire form to turn to ice.

Amused, Yvette looked over to see Sypha there. Sypha then spun and slammed a clenched fist into her other palm with a grunt of effort. The frozen vampiress crumbled and shattered in front of both women.

Trevor ran around the back of Sypha. She gave him a boost with yet another ice column, although significantly smaller. Yvette leapt up, both Belmonts heading up to help Alucard with the last vampire in the room. The immortalised Slayer threw her blade like it was a spear. The vampire dodged. But then he had to dodge again as Trevor snapped the Morning Star out at him. But he didn’t move in time to dodge Trevor manipulating the chain to wrap around his ankles and he was yanked down when Trevor inevitably fell.

But Trevor used to momentum to throw the vampire into the ground and give himself a far more graceful landing. As the damphir and the Belmonts came down, Sypha rushed forward. Her forefingers were lifted and she took a hold on the vampire general’s head. Fire exploded out upon contact and he was burned to ashes. Sypha let him drop and just walked over to join the other.

‘Not bad,’ Yvette remarked, pulling out another blade.

At that moment, there were roars behind them as the demons emerged from the guts of the castle.

The four of them glared and ran to engage the demons.

***

Isaac fought of Carmilla’s forces as he covered Dracula’s back.

As he killed the second vampire though, the body slumped over the balcony. That was when he saw it. There were four strangers running in. Two of them bore the Belmont family crest. Another he quickly realised was Dracula’s son, Alucard. The boy looked up at him in shock before shooting his sword at him. Isaac used the vampire he’d just killed as a shield.

The Belmont woman was quite vocal with her own shock. ‘A forgemaster?’

Isaac tossed the body aside and rushed after Dracula. He found him tearing the heart out of yet another assailant. Isaac rushed over to him. ‘Your son is here.’

Dracula straightened up. ‘Alucard has entered the castle?’

‘And a woman who stinks of magic. And two hunters. To your study!’ The two of them moved into the room in question.

Isaac quickly made himself a barrier for the vampire king. ‘Behind me, Dracula! They will not reach you while I live!’

‘You would give your mortal life to preserve my immortal one?’ Dracula asked.

‘To save your genius, your knowledge, and your will – without question.’ He looked over his shoulder. ‘I am just a forgemaster. Yours is the wisdom of ages.’ He turned back to the door.

‘You are the greatest of your people, Isaac,’ Dracula said. ‘You have a soul, I think. Perhaps that is more useful to the world to come, than dusty old books and apparatus. Or perhaps you simply deserve a better fate than to die instead of me.’

‘I choose my death,’ Isaac declared. ‘As I chose my life.’

‘Then I regret only that I have taken a choice for you.’ And with that, Dracula threw him through the mirror.

Isaac screamed out for his master as the mirror came apart again.

***

The glass collapsed.

Dracula turned and waited.

This was it. Alucard had now come to try and stop him once and for all. Odd. Two hunters. He’d have thought only one Belmont would have survived. It looked, now, as though he’d been wrong in that. Leon Belmont had come close to killing him but, in the end, even he had never managed it.

Alucard stood at the door, alone. He took a few steps in, his sword out. ‘Father.’

‘Son.’ He made sure his boy could hear his disapproval in his voice.

Alucard’s eyes narrowed. ‘Your war is over.’

Dracula inclined his head and smirked slightly. ‘Because you say so?’

‘It ends.’ Alucard looked down. ‘In the name of my mother.’

Rage rolled in Dracula’s gut. ‘It endures in the name of your mother.’

Alucard looked back up at him. ‘I told you before: I won’t let you do it. I grieve with you, but I won’t let you commit genocide.’

‘You couldn’t stop me before.’

At that moment a female Speaker and one of the Belmonts – a man, holding a weapon in each hand – stepped in on either side of his son. Alucard responded.

‘I was alone before.’


	25. Confronting Dracula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fight of the Century begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that's an over-dramatic summary.
> 
> No, I don't care.

Alucard struck first.

He lifted his sword and charged. Dracula caught the end of the sword before it could penetrate his chest, but Alucard still pushed him and slammed him into the wall. A sizable dent was made in the wall, cracking running out of it in all directions. Several books were knocked off of their shelves. The portrait of Lisa also fell from the wall.

Alucard grunted and pushed harder.

But Dracula merely pushed back and calmly walked forward, forcing his son to back-up. He let go of the sword as Alucard withdrew it, and the proceeded to dodge every slash his son aimed at him. Then Dracula caught his wrist. He waited a second or so before punching his son into the fireplace. Self-preservation was what had Alucard quickly yanking his head out.

Dracula then turned to the other two. He hadn’t seen the fourth member of their attack party, but the Belmont charged himself while the Speaker lifted her hands. There was something in the way she did it though. It was on the tip of his tongue. But Dracula discarded it in favour of dealing with the Belmont.

Dracula pounced. The Belmont, like his ancestors, was quicker than most humans. He realised what was about to hit him, but had no time to do anything about it. Well, almost. He did manage to guard himself well enough to keep his ribcage intact as Dracula knocked him out of the study and into the hallway outside.

As soon as he let him go, the Belmont collapsed forward and coughed up blood. Stronger than average (the result of a spell Leon Belmont had placed on his bloodline) or not, he was still human. Dracula was just in the process of figuring out what way to kill him when light behind him caught his eye and he turned only to find himself having to defend against a constant stream of fire.

He was steadily forced away from the Belmont by the Speaker. Oh, that was right. Isaac had said something about a woman who stunk of magic. ‘Speaker Magician!’

The Speaker’s eyes kept darting down to Belmont in a way Dracula recognised, even as the human tried to recover. Belmonts were bad enough when they were only competent at magic. If this level of magic was introduced into the bloodline (because of all people, of course the Belmonts would survive), they would quickly become a much bigger problem than they had been before.

He moved to attack her, but he was struck.

And he was struck hard. Dracula went flying through the air and slammed hard into the ground, tearing up the stone. Looking up, he was shocked to see who was standing between himself, and the Speaker Magician and the Belmont. In 300 years, she’d barely changed at all. The same golden pendant even hung around her neck.

‘Yvette Belmont,’ he growled. ‘Slayer daughter of Leon Belmont. You should be long dead.’

‘So speaks the vampire,’ she shot back.

Of course, it made sense. Only a Slayer would be able to hit that hard; only a Slayer would have any hope. It was Yvette who’d done it last time. Not her father and not her brother, but Yvette. That was one of the reasons he remembered her name when so many other Belmonts had slipped from his mind entirely.

Dracula attacked again.

He slashed at the Belmont Slayer first, only for her to leap out of the way. Then the Speaker Magician had tried to use ice to protect herself. He slashed right through it and sent her flying. The flesh of her upper arm had torn under his claws and she hit the ground, hard. Dracula advanced on her.

Yvette sent a blade spinning at him, but he easily deflected it.

‘Sypha!’ The younger Belmont came running at him again, and, like quite a few of his ancestors before him, swung a few punches into Dracula’s face.

Dracula, of course, barely felt it. ‘You must be the Belmont.’ Of course he already knew that.

Belmont ignored him and tried again. Dracula sucker punched him and then grabbed him around the throat. The Belmont glared at him even as he tried, futilely to pry Dracula’s hand off of his throat.

‘The end of your line,’ Dracula declared, getting ready to kill him.

Then Yvette was there, stabbing Dracula through the wrist. Dracula snarled and reflexively let go of her indirect descendant. She withdrew the blade and flicked his blood off of it as her distant relative staggered back. Dracula slashed at her, only for her to block the attack, grab his wrist and yank him down, driving her knee up into his ribcage. At the same moment, a sword shot into his side, piercing both of his lungs.

Dracula hacked.

Then the Speaker Magician was there, throwing fire into his face, forcing him back. She withdrew, but he didn’t know what for. He just had both Alucard and Yvette coming at him, slashing and stabbing as they forced him back. The rage inside of him boiled up more and more. He lashed out with considerable strength and he felt (and heard) Yvette Belmont take the hit and go flying up and through several of the barriers between the rooms.

But Alucard was still there.

Dracula knocked him back. But, as he turned, he saw the Belmont had a stake and he was then driving it straight in. That would be a potential death to a normal vampire, but Dracula was far from a normal vampire. Behind Belmont, Dracula saw the Speaker Magician tear her sleeve away and searing her wound closed. It only confirmed his suspicions.

Not only was the Belmont attracted to her, but she would slot into the Belmont lifestyle very nicely.

And the Belmonts _could not_ gain that sort of power.

Dracula lashed out at him again, but this time the Belmont was ready. His evasive movements suggested that he was accustomed to fighting someone of Dracula’s calibre. Where would he have learned that except from his ancestor? It was clear now that the only reason this Belmont survived was because of Yvette.

Behind him, he noticed the Speaker Magician getting ready to fire again, so he quickly seized the Belmont’s arm and sent him flying at her. It cut off their attack but then Alucard was coming at him again. He slammed him into a wall. Dracula immediately lifted his hands, clenched together, above his head. He brought them down and the ground cracked underneath them.

Alucard grunted in pain and then knocked his father’s arms aside before striking him in the throat. Dracula knocked him aside as he nursed his neck. With a grunt, the Speaker Magician spiked his leg with icicles. Then the Slayer’s descendant struck him in the face with his weapon. The sharp sting and the explosion told Dracula exactly what he’d been hit by. He collapsed to his hands and knees.

Then Dracula pushed himself up. ‘The Morning Star whip. Well played, Belmont. But I am no ordinary vampire, to be killed by your human magics. I am Vlad Dracula Tepes,’ he raised his voice to shout, ‘and I have had enough!’

***

Trevor’s eyes widened as he saw the molten ball heading for them.

Sypha moved forward and put her hands up, trying to stop it with her magic. It certainly slowed it down, but it did not stop it entirely. The molten ball just kept coming at them. Sypha’s effort only had her pushed back. There wasn’t a lot Trevor could do in this situation, but he could think of the one thing he could do. He pushed his own back against hers and braced himself.

She glanced back at him for a moment before refocusing on what she was trying to do.

Then Alucard shot to the front. He lifted his hand and his sword flew into it. Thrusting his sword forward, Alucard charged at the ball of molten rock. It finally stopped. He pushed harder. They struggled for a moment. Then Sypha gave one final hard push, and Alucard shoved the whole thing right back where it’d come from.

Trevor imagined the thing that stopped it was Dracula himself. Alucard leveraged his sword. Then, with a grunt of effort, he punctured the molten ball and part of it vaporised. There was a loud explosion and, for a moment, Trevor wondered if Dracula was dead. He also found himself worrying that Alucard may be dead as well.

But there was a massive hole in the wall in front of them.

‘Trevor.’ Sypha’s hand grasped his. ‘Are they...?’

‘One way to know for sure.’

With that statement, Trevor led her after them.

***

Yvette finally came to a stop.

She’d sustained quite a few injuries on her unexpected trek up through the castle’s levels. She’d forgotten quite how hard Dracula could hit. Of course, it had been three hundred years. When she finally hit the ceiling that didn’t break and slammed into the ground, she let herself lie there. She felt her body already repairing the damage. She began to count in her mind.

_Un...deux...trois...Huh?_

Something wet was touching her fingertips. Yvette opened her eyes and looked up. She blinked at what she was seeing, but there could be no denying it. Apart from a few select details, it looked completely normal. It wasn’t at all what she’d expect one of those to do. She turned her hand over and let the animal sniff her palm.

It did so, much like a living one of its kind would do.

‘A puppy?’

Just a regular...albeit undead puppy.


	26. Death of Dracula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle finally ends.

Alucard and Dracula crashed into the observatory.

Dracula came off second best, having to make a recovery landing, while Alucard hovered in among the glass.

Dracula snarled and charged, roaring. Alucard’s vampiric nature came to the forefront as he charged and roared as his father did. The two forces collided, over and over again. This give and take of blows went on until Dracula caught one of his punches and threw him up through the ceiling. Alucard then found himself stuck on the floor as his head spun.

His father landed behind him.

Alucard quickly looked behind himself and grabbed the neaest piece of sharp wood, created from his crash landing.

Dracula laughed behind him. ‘You mean to stake me?’

‘You want me to,’ Alucard said without turning.

‘What?’ Dracula sounded like he thought it was a joke.

‘You didn’t kill me before. You are not going to kill me now.’ Alucard turned and glared up at his father. ‘You want this to end as much as I do.’

And his father swung into rage again. ‘Do I?’ He kicked Alucard across the floor.

Alucard recovered and slid to a stop. He rose. ‘You died when my mother died. You know you did. This entire catastrophe has been nothing but history’s longest suicide note!’ He charged at his father with the stake.

Dracula tried to knock the stake from his hand, but it flipped in the air and Alucard caught it again. He thrust it into his father’s chest. Unfortunately, he was trying to do it quickly, and so his aim was imperfect. He ground his teeth as he realised this fact. His father then spoke up, stating the mistake they both knew he made.

‘Not quite close enough.’ Then Dracula grasped his face and threw him through the nearby wall.

Alucard heard the wood clatter to the stone ground.

***

Trevor and Sypha ran through the castle.

‘Next floor up!’ Sypha called to Trevor. ‘I hear them!’

Yvette rounded a corner. ‘And I sense them!’

‘Wondered when we’d see you!’ Trevor called to her.

Yvette waved it off. ‘I just needed a few minutes after that trip. I think I landed in one of the forgemaster chambers.’

***

His father had become vicious. It was all Alucard could do to dodge. But he knew he couldn’t do it forever. He took a chance and turned, grabbing his father and throwing him against a wall. Only for Dracula to lash out and force them both into one of the rooms. It was now Alucard realised where precisely in the castle they were.

Then Alucard tried to fight him, only for his father the grab his head and smash him through another wall. They landed on the dining room table and his father tried to punch him in the face. Alucard got his legs under him and kicked him off. They smashed through yet another wall, into the machinery which ran their home.

Dracula threw him to the ground. Alucard charged, only for his father to punch him to the ground again. He didn’t allow Alucard to get a punch in edgeways. He began just pounding into him as Alucard staggered back across the bridge. Dracula was snarling in rage by this point. Alucard staggered back and tried to think of a way out of this.

He decided to make a last resort attack.

Falling would mean certain death, even to a vampire.

Alucard teleported out. He slammed into his father, and then teleported out. He did it again, and again. Altogether, he managed to do it six times before his father caught him by the skull. Then he slammed him down onto the bridge. He slammed his head down again and again. The pain was almost enough to knock him out. Then Dracula lifted him up and punched him. Alucard flew through another wall and was immobilised once more.

He struggled to catch his breath and stand up, even as he heard his father approaching with a low growl. Alucard had barely gotten his feet back under him before Dracula struck him again. Alucard struggled to lift his head. Despite the pain in his body, he attacked again – only to be knocked back by his father again. As he staggered back, his father kept on advancing.

Dracula gave him one last punch.

Not that Alucard knew it was the last punch.

He vaguely recognised the room as he struggled to get up while his father stormed in.

Then…Dracula stopped.

He gasped and his eyes widened. The ends of his cape fluttered to the ground. Alucard was actually given the time he needed to recover. He looked up at his father and his eyes widened. Why had his father stopped? What had the murderous rage suddenly left his face? The red of his eyes was still there, but the murderous rage was gone.

‘It’s your room,’ Dracula murmured.

Alucard looked around. Yes, he realised, it was. And that somehow had gotten through to his father when nothing else could. Alucard watched as his father stared around. The red faded out of Dracula’s eyes. The full horror of what he was doing seemed to sink in on him. Dracula folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes.

‘My boy…’ he whispered in a shaky voice. ‘I’m…I…I’m killing my boy.’

He slowly walked over to the desk, which the family portrait hung above. ‘Lisa…I’m killing our boy. We painted this room. We…made these toys. It’s our boy, Lisa.’

Slowly, Alucard rose up. He broke a post off the bed, and he slowly walked over to his father.

Dracula staggered back and looked at his hands, then he clenched them into fists. ‘Your greatest gift to me…and I’m killing him.’ His lifted his eyes and looked at Alucard. ‘I must already be dead.’

Alucard froze, the tears burning in his eyes.

Dracula closed his eyes and dropped his head. Then he looked up at his son again.

Alucard understood and he stepped in. He drove the stake into his father’s heart, properly this time. Dracula choked and blood began to pour out of his mouth. The blood poured out of his heart too. It trailed down Alucard’s arm and dropped off of his elbow. Dracula began to weep tears of blood.

‘Son…’ he whispered.

Alucard was having a hard enough time keeping his own tears in. ‘Father.’ He ground his teeth and pushed the stake in deeper.

The scent of Yvette reached him before he saw her enter the room over his father’s shoulder. She drew a long stake from her waist sash. There was a look in her eyes; she looked at Alucard like she pitied him. Then she swiftly plunged the stake into Dracula’s heart from the back. Dracula cried out and arched his neck.

He swiftly began to decay. As he did, he lowered his head again and he reached out for Alucard. Smoke began to drift out of him. Alucard stared up at him, frozen. He didn’t know what to think and he couldn’t move. Then, he found himself stumbling back as Dracula stumbled after him. In the next instant, he heard a sword be unsheathed and then Belmont grunted.

In a flash of metal, Belmont separated Dracula’s head from his shoulders.

The whole corpse collapsed. A pool of blood began forming underneath it.

Then Sypha walked forward. ‘Alucard, step back.’ She raised a hand. ‘Let me finish this.’

Still in shock, Alucard stumbled. He found Yvette reach out for him and pull him out of the way. With a simple gesture, flames streamed out of Sypha’s hands. It soon engulfed the entire body. Yvette seemed to brace herself and draw him back at little more. The flames grew as they reduced Dracula’s body to ashes.

Then a large, black…thing began to rise out of the remains. Belmont quickly grabbed Sypha and pulled her back. The darkness streamed up, extinguishing the flames. All four covered their eyes as it smashed out through the window. Yvette tried to get a closer look at it, but the force was too much even for a Slayer.

Then it was gone.

All that was left of Dracula was his wedding ring.

‘Is…Is that it?’ Sypha asked.

‘For now.’ Yvette sighed. ‘That happened last time too. Dracula self-resurrects. I still don’t know how.’

Alucard looked at her. ‘So you did actually kill him last time?’

‘Barely, but yes.’ She looked around. ‘It shouldn’t be for a while yet, but he’ll be back.’

‘How long?’ Trevor asked.

Yvette looked over her shoulder at him. ‘I’ve seen it happen but once. Alucard and I will be around to worry about it.’ She shook her head. ‘But I very much doubt that you two will.’

Alucard sighed and looked at the family portrait. ‘He died a long time ago.’

***

The four of them walked out of the castle in silence.

Sypha looked back at the other two. Alucard was looking around the main hall mournfully. She understood that, once, even the fearsome Dracula had been a good father. This had been his home. This was where he grew up, and this was his home. Yet, this was where his father had conducted his massacres from.

This was where he had to end his own father’s reign of terror.

Yvette seemed to understand that and she patted him on the back as she guided him out.

Looking over at Trevor, Sypha noticed a look on his face. This one was different, of course. She’d noticed him glance at the wound on her arm before turning his attention elsewhere when he stopped. With a smile, Sypha reached down and slid her hand into his. He looked at her before gently curling his fingers around hers.

He felt guilty about it for some reason. Sypha didn’t want him to feel guilty about her wounds. She had found that, as terrifying as the fight with Dracula was, she had gained a sense of exhileration from this adventure. She wanted to continue doing so. Yes, that may mean abandoning her life as a Speaker, but it seemed worth the price she had to pay.

Hand in hand, they followed Alucard and Yvette out.


	27. The Next Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to decide what to do next.

Yvette wound a bandage around her wrist.

‘Braila, huh? You sure that was the city?’

‘I recognised it.’ Alucard frowned. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t think we’re quite finished here.’ Yvette frowned. ‘That forgemaster we saw vanished, and he was fighting vampires off of Dracula’s back. One would think we’d have had to go through him to get to Dracula. Then there’s the other one.’

‘Other one?’ Trevor asked. He’d, reluctantly, let Sypha tend to the wounds on his hands.

‘Yeah. That first one didn’t strike me as the type to reanimate dead animals to keep as pets.’

They all twisted around and looked at her.

‘Really.’ She pointed up. ‘They’re upstairs now.’

Alucard frowned and then shot up at inhuman speed. He returned with one of the strangest things Trevor had ever seen. It wasn’t the puppy that was so odd, as it was that part of its face and one leg had rotted away, leaving only bone. Yet it behaved like a normal puppy. Honestly, he had to agree with Yvette just looking at the thing.

Sypha flinched back. ‘What...er...kind of person does something like that?’

‘Someone who’s off in the head, to start with.’ Yvette cracked a grin at her own joke. ‘No, but seriously, whoever this other forgemaster is he probably has a very simplistic view of the world. He probably doesn’t even really understand death. I’ve met people who don’t, and they are always annoying.’

‘Well, he’s going to have a nasty wake-up call,’ Trevor remarked.

‘I think it’s already started,’ Yvette said.

‘Why do you say that?’ Alucard asked, examining the puppy as it craned its neck to try and lick him.

Yvette walked over and picked up a piece of material – black with white trim.

Alucard understood immediately, and sighed.

‘And for those of us who don’t recognise the colours?’ Trevor asked.

‘These are the colours of Styria,’ Yvette told him. ‘Which means Carmilla likely tried to stage a coup against Dracula before we so-rudely interrupted. The other forgemaster is probably with her.’

‘Someone actually tried to stage a coup against my father?’ Alucard asked doubtfully.

‘Not very smart, but she’s a misanrist.’

Alucard cocked an eyebrow. ‘I was rather under the impression that she went out of her way to avoid Belmonts. How do you know this?’

‘Just because she’s gone out of her way to avoid us doesn’t mean she’s always been either that smart or even successful.’

Trevor frowned. ‘But with him gone, for now, I bet she’ll be trying to use that forgemaster to take over vampire society.’

Sypha seemed to agree with him. ‘Not to mention what that other forgemaster might be doing.’

‘Right.’ Yvette looked up. ‘But, to be honest, I’d call Carmilla more of a short-term problem, as far as vampires go.’ She noticed their confused looks. ‘He’s been killed before. I ought to know. I did it. He came back. Died just like we saw then. He came back. Don’t ask me how, but he came back. I expect him to do it again.’

Sypha frowned. ‘How did you know he would come back the first time?’

‘We didn’t,’ Yvette said. ‘Papa was just very concerned with the way he died. Even then we’d seen enough vampires die to know that wasn’t normal. And honestly, Dracula wasn’t the oldest vampire out there back then.’

‘I suppose I’d better stay here and keep watch for when he comes back, then,’ Alucard remarked.

‘Yeah.’ Yvette stood up. ‘In the meantime, I’m going to use some of the distance mirrors around here to see what I can’t find out.’

***

Sypha and Trevor took some time to look around. There was something...familiar about it. And she knew exactly what it was.

‘So much like the engines we found under Gresit.’

Trevor was having a look too. ‘Alucard must have learned it all at his daddy’s knee.’ He sighed and started walking out of the room. Sypha followed him. ‘It’s incredible, really,’ he said.

‘It’s the true science,’ Sypha told him. ‘My people heard the stories but...didn’t quite hold onto the truth of them.’

Trevor let his eyes rove around. ‘Less damage than I would have thought. Apart from the mess in that little room he showed us.’

‘Yes. The engine room that moves the castle. I cannot imagine how that worked.’

‘Well,’ Trevor told her. ‘It doesn’t work anymore.’ He then gave her a wry grin. ‘You melted it.’

Sypha lifted her nose. ‘I didn’t melt anything. It must have been straining against the spell.’

Trevor had a witty retort on his tongue, but it was interrupted by a couple of birds flying off from inside. Proof, if ever he saw it, that the castle was (at least for now) free of vampires.

Sypha was silent for a moment. ‘What do you think he’s going to do now?’ After all, his major purpose was completed.

The man in question answered her as he entered the main hall. ‘I had a plan, you know.’ He walked down the stairs and over to them. ‘I was going back to Gresit, return to my vault. Go back to sleep. Of course, now, your Slayer’s thrown that plan out the window. My father being able to resurrect himself never crossed my mind.’

‘So you _are_ staying here then?’ Trevor asked.

‘It would seem to be the thing to do,’ Alucard said. ‘And, if I leave the castle here, all his work is inside it. His libraries, his materials, his knowledge. What happens to all that if the structure is abandoned? I can’t just leave it here.’ He looked around. ‘Be nothing but a grave to be robbed.’

They were all silent for a moment.

‘So,’ Alucard said, ‘let it be my grave.’

Trevor didn’t take long to answer that one. ‘No.’

Alucard looked at him in confusion. ‘No?’

‘No.’ Trevor turned to face him properly. ‘We can’t move this thing.’ He pointed to the redhead. ‘Sypha broke it.’

‘I did not!’ she protested.

‘You kind of did,’ Alucard said.

She protested again, folding her arms. ‘I do not break things!’

‘So, we agree?’ Trevor asked Alucard. ‘She broke it?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘So, it’s staying right here. Forever.’ Trevor looked over his shoulder and gestured. ‘Right on top of the Belmont Hold...’ He looked back at them. ‘...which is now also open to the world.’ He walked across.   
‘Up here, your father’s collected knowledge. Down there, the collected knowledge of your mother’s people. As above, so below. Both halves of you, Alucard.’

Alucard narrowed his eyes. ‘I’m listening.’

Trevor walked over to his side and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Behold, you sulky half-vampire bastard,’ he stepped back again and gave a dramatic bow, ‘I bequeath you the Belmont Hold. Make that, and the castle, your home – not your grave. Be its last defender.’

A conflicted look came onto Alucard’s face. ‘You’re giving me...your home?’

‘It’s yours,’ Trevor said. ‘My childhood home, and your childhood home. Protect it. Make something out of it. Something better than a pile of ruins and a symbol of terror.’

Alucard smiled and nodded.

**Middle East**  
They found a man by the oasis.

Identifying his race, the desert pirates stopped.

The man looked over his shoulder before looking back at the water. ‘Keep moving. I’m not in the mood.’

The captain smirked. ‘Well, what do we have here?’ He watched the man take another drink. ‘Oh, it’s thirsty, whatever it is.’ He took another drink. ‘Don’t drink the entire pool.’

The man didn’t turn. ‘There is enough water for all.’ He took another drink.

‘Oh, I don’t care about all.’ The captain nudged his horse forward. ‘I only care about us.’

The man lifted his head but didn’t turn around. ‘There will be plenty for you after I’m gone.’

‘Well, perhaps we want it all.’ They all moved their horses forward.

‘Yes,’ the man said. ‘You probably do.’ He stood up and folded his hands behind his back. ‘Your kind always does.’ He then turned around to face them.

The captain sneered. ‘I think the desert has left us a little gift, don’t you?’ He was the first to draw his sword and his men followed. ‘Put a rope around it, drag it behind us. Perhaps we can sell it at the next town – unless we get hungry between now and then, I suppose.’

But the man did not look intimidated. ‘Is that really the best you have? Your best response to finding a lone stranger drinking at an oasis? Call him “it”, and immediately draw plans to sell him or eat him?’

The captain exchanged a glance with his second. This one had guts, it had to be said. The captain laughed. ‘You don’t matter. You don’t deserve my best. You’re just some drifting clump of shit I discovered on the road, and I’ll do with you as I wish. Only I and my friends here matter. You are simply meat.’

There was an odd smirk on the man’s face. ‘I’m not human?’

The captain pretended to mull it over. ‘Oh, I’m sure you’re human, Sir Philosopher of the Waterhole!’ He sniffed and then glared down at him. ‘I simply don’t care.’

‘Me neither.’

The captain never even knew what hit him.

And he’d be horrified if he knew what was done to his body, and the bodies of his friends, after.


	28. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to make some definitive decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually quite a short chapter, and I apologise.

It’d been a long time since Trevor had just walked through these woods.

Yvette was still running around trying to get what she needed to know.

‘I want to rejoin my caravan,’ Sypha suddenly said. ‘This is a story that should be read into our memory stores.’

He knew that was the logical thing to happen next, but it still made him feel sad.

She continued. ‘But…after that, I don’t know.’ She looked thoughtful.

‘You’ll travel with them, surely,’ Trevor said. Cause that was what Speakers did. ‘Go back to your old life.’

She stopped. ‘I don’t know.’

Trevor stopped and turned around. That was odd. He’d never even heard of a Speaker considering not returning to their caravan permanently. He looked at her and waited.

Sypha smiled at him. ‘Since I met you, I’ve come back from a living death, I’ve fought demons in the city square of Gresit, I’ve stopped a raiding force from reaching Haregesh, I’ve discovered forgotten spells in the greatest hidden library in Europe, and I’ve trapped a castle that uses magic engines to move from place to place and pinned it to the ruins of the Belmont home. Why would I want to stop now?’

So…she was enjoying this life? (With him?) Trevor wasn’t sure how to react to the feeling that rose up in him upon hearing that. ‘Go on.’ He turned and started walking again.

Sypha hurried to catch up to him. ‘Yvette said Dracula used at least two forgemasters, right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So, you’ll be going after one and she’ll be going after the other?’

‘Probably. Forgemasters are rare but, when they do show up, they’re always trouble.’ It was part of the reason the Belmonts had always scoffed at the Watcher insistence that Slayers didn’t kill humans; part of why it’d been agreed to never let a Watcher anywhere near a Belmont Slayer. Forgemasters were always human. And the only way to stop them from making demon hoardes was to kill them.

‘And what about the church?’ Sypha went on. ‘We’ve both seen how corrupt and twisted it is. And who knows what else is happening out there? What then?’

Trevor smiled to himself. So…she did want to stay with him? He looked at her. ‘Well…what then?’

Sypha smiled at him again. ‘Then we’re not finished! Are we? And I don’t want to stop.’

She was dancing around what he really wanted to hear. ‘Stop what, for God’s sake?!’

‘This! What we’re doing! And it’s good for you too.’

‘I’ve been told that.’ Trevor smirked to himself. ‘Yvette always told me if I didn’t demon hunt I’d be a wandering drunk bum.’

‘You mean you weren’t a wandering drunk bum when we met?’ Sypha asked coyly.

He looked over at her in mock annoyance as they came to the clifftop his father used to bring him to. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘When I met you,’ she thumped his chest, ‘you reeked of piss, blood, and stale beer. You were only demon hunting because your ancestor had pushed you into it.’

‘She told you that?’ Trevor asked.

‘Yes, she told me that.’ Sypha went on. ‘And then you stormed off like a toddler with a thistle up his back end.’

‘Right. How does that even—’

She cut him off and shushed him. ‘And now, in the short time we have known each other, you have rediscovered yourself. And you have grown. Today might be the first time I felt like I was talking to an adult man. You’re better than you were when I met you. Do you know why? Why I think that is?’

Trevor averted his eyes and wordlessly shrugged.

‘You’re finally doing what you were born for – because you cared enough to do it rather than because someone else was making you do it.’ She put a hand to his chest and he just hoped she couldn’t feel his heart rate pick up. ‘As insane as it sounds, this entire nightmare scenario has made you complete.’

He wanted to make a wisecrack, but he couldn’t think of one.

‘I think you should see it through. With me.’

Trevor looked at her. ‘With you?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’ She smiled and faced the horizon. ‘You could be my handsome sidekick. Or mascot. Imagine that. If you didn’t talk much, people would think you were my deformed pet bear and throw you free food.’

He knew she was teasing him. ‘Sypha…’

‘Yes, Trevor?’

Trevor sat down on the grass and dropped his arms over his knees. ‘You’re asking me to roam the countryside and get into horrible trouble,’ he grinned up at her, ‘because you think it’s “good” for me?’

She knelt down next to him and put a hand to his arm. ‘Listen to what I’m really saying, Trevor. I’m saying I want you to be with me. And I want you to have adventures with me.’

Trevor didn’t really even have to think about it. ‘This is the closest thing I’ve had to a life in…’ He paused, trying to remember the exact figure. But, with how hard he tried to forget as a boy, it eluded him. He let out a breath. ‘…I don’t know when.’ He looked up at her. ‘And you’re the closest I’ve had to a friend.’

She offered him her hand. ‘So will you come with me?’

She really wanted to stay with him? Him, of all people? Trevor smiled and closed his eyes, letting a breath out through his nose. He took her hand. ‘I wouldn’t know where else to go. Or who else to be with.’

She smiled at him and wound her other arm around his. ‘Good.’ As she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder, he looked down at her. She’d closed her eyes and just rested against him. Trevor quickly averted his eyes, unsure how to respond. He quickly decided, though, to just stay still and let her rest against him.

It was…kind of nice, to be honest.

‘Where to first?’ he asked softly.

‘After we find my people?’ Sypha responded. ‘I think we should see Braila. Chase after Carmilla and the forgemaster she’s got there.’

‘They’ll have moved on by the time we get there,’ Trevor murmured.

‘Yes, but we still should be able to trace them. If Yvette’s right and Carmilla’s trying to take over Dracula’s throne, she’ll be making an awful lot of noise.’

‘True enough.’

‘But…let’s stay here, just a little longer.’

***

‘I’ll send Reudi to check on Alucard while the rest of us look for these forgemasters. Sounds like the kid’s been through a lot.’

Yvette smiled at her old mentor and fellow immortalised Slayer. ‘ _Oui_. I was concerned about leaving him alone in the castle.’

‘So, what are you thinking about the forgemasters, then?’ Eliza asked.

‘Alucard and I checked the mirror that was in Dracula’s study. We both agree that Dracula sent the first forgemaster through it to save his life from us. The last place it opened up to was a desert in the middle east. I’ll go out that way. That will leave Trevor and Sypha to head towards Brailla. I imagine they’ll want to track down her caravan on the way though.’

Eliza pulled a face. ‘Yes...’

Yvette frowned. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Nothing concrete,’ Eliza said. ‘I’ve just got a feeling.’

‘You too, huh?’ Yvette pulled her own face. ‘Well...if anything has happened, we’d probably be better to rip the bandage off, at it were.’

‘So, you’re sending them to Brailla anyway?’ Eliza asked.

‘Naturally.’

Eliza nodded. ‘I already sent Law ahead.’


	29. Innocence Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hector should have run when he had the chance.

**Braila**  
The stench of smoke was still thick in the air even as the sun went down.

Hector, personally, couldn’t wait to leave. But he had promised to keep watch out for Carmilla until the sun set. It was the very last thing he was going to do for her. He’d had enough of her games. He sat outside the building, drawing in the dirt with a stick. Behind him, the door opened and he heard Carmilla’s voice.

‘Is the sun down yet?’

He turned his head away from her. ‘Not quite.’

She still stepped out, cowled to protect herself from the remaining sunlight and huffed. ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ She lifted her chin. ‘Where are the townspeople?’

‘They’re not coming close to us,’ Hector said. ‘They spent the day recovering things from the ruins. They started returning to the furtherest houses a little while ago.’

‘Do they know we’re here?’ Carmilla walked around the edge of the shadows.

Hector sighed and dropped his head. ‘Certainly.’

‘So they are barricading their homes and sharpening their stakes. That’s fair.’ She moved again. ‘Can’t say I blame them.’

Hector fiddled with his stick, considering.

‘You won’t stake me to death with that, Hector,’ she told him, evidently reading his thoughts off his face or body language or something.

Hector glanced at her and then looked at the stick. He chuckled. ‘I wasn’t intending to try. I was thinking it might make a drill to start a fire. It’s gonna be a cold night.’

‘We won’t be staying,’ Carmilla stated.

‘The fire was for me, not you,’ Hector said. ‘I assume you don’t really feel the cold.’

Carmilla laughed and then sat down. She was silent throughout the rest of the sunset. Only when the sun had completely disappeared below the horizon did she move. She put an arm out of her cloak before she shed the whole thing and stood up again. Hector would be glad when she was gone.

He looked up at her. ‘Where will you go?’

‘I think I will return to Styria,’ Carmilla said. ‘What else is there? The majority of my forces were here and now they are gone.’

Hector asked the question that’d been plaguing him for nearly twelve hours. ‘What was that? The way the castle moved and then vanished? I’ve been thinking about it nearly all day. I...I still don’t understand.’

Carmilla looked back at him. She sighed in clear irritation. ‘What is there to understand?’ She paced closer to him. ‘A spell captured the castle. The engines of the castle attempted to fight the capture, and so it thrashed around like a rat in a cage. And lost.’

Hector looked up at her, alarmed. He then frowned and looked across to where the castle was before it was grabbed. ‘Do you think Dracula lives?’

‘No.’

Hector’s head snapped around to look at her. She’d moved right next to him without him noticing. ‘We have viewed the castle with mirrors.’

Denial set in. ‘But you can’t be sure.’

‘I can.’ Carmilla smirked at him. ‘Dracula is dead, Hector.’

He stared up at her and then looked down mournfully.

‘Does that trouble you?’ she asked, almost mockingly.

‘Of course it does!’ he snapped.

‘Poor Hector. Stand up for me.’

Hector looked up at her suspiciously, even as she offered him her hand. He stood up without taking it. He didn’t know what she was up to, but he had learned not to trust the devious woman before him. Carmilla put a hand on his shoulder and moved around so that she was standing directly in front of him.

‘Hector,’ she said, ‘you look like shit.’

He put a hand to his head and scoffed. ‘I know.’

‘Don’t worry. We’ll look after you.’

Hector went to ask what she meant when he suddenly felt something cold and metal be clamped around his neck. His eyes widened and darted to the side as two of Carmilla’s vampire soldiers appeared over his shoulder. They clamped onto both of his arms and both of his shoulders. Despite knowing how much stronger than him they were, Hector began to struggle against their hold.

‘Carmilla, what are you doing?’ he demanded.

The collar around his neck was pulled out, forcing him back. One hand gripped his hair.

Carmilla looked over her shoulder carelessly. ‘I must return to Styria. With my forces decimated, the humans of this region weakened, and a void in the power structure of the vampire world, I intend to take advantage of that. But I need my strength returned. I need a hoarde as Dracula had. And you are a forgemaster.’ She put a painted claw to his forehead and pushed his head back. ‘ _You_ will create the hoarde for me.’

‘Go to hell!’ Hector snapped jerking his head away. He’d been loyal to Dracula!

He’d never do it for her!

As he struggled the grip on his hair tightened and he grunted in pain.

Carmilla laughed.

The next thing he knew, it felt like a brick hit his face. He was let go only so he could be thrown to the ground with the force of the hit. Hector barely knew what’d happened. His face was throbbing and there was the metalic taste of blood on his tongue. He was determined not to let her see him cowed. He pushed himself up but he only got up to his hands and knees. Then her high-heeled foot pushed him back.

As he struggled to catch his breath, Carmilla looked down at him as if he was shit under her shoe. ‘Get up.’

The chain around his neck was pulled and he was forcefully yanked to his feet. He barely knew what’d happened – only saw a flash of Carmilla – before he was sent stumbling across the stone verandah. He spun around and watched as the vampiress walked over to the other end of the chain around his neck, shaking her wrist as she went.

The laughter that came out of her was akin to that of a joyful child. She jumped at him. He jerked back but she landed on the chain and his head was jerked painfully. She laughed again and straightened up, curling her hand into a fist, as he tried to recover. Hector watched the fist fearfully as her brain struggled to comprehend just what he’d gone and gotten himself into.

Then she grabbed his chain and yanked him forward. She took a hold of his jaw and pulled him upright. Fear paralysed him and he offered no resistance. ‘You are my pet now.’ She turned his head. ‘My pet forgemaster.’

Then he was thrown back.

He barely had any clue of what happened next. All he knew was pain. Pain in his gut, in his back, in his face. He could do nothing to defend himself from this monster. And, through it all, he heard nothing but Carmilla’s delighted laughter. He finally lifted his hands. She seemed to stop. It was enough for him to open his eyes and see her standing over him, covered in blood splatters – his blood.

‘Oh.’ She looked europhic. ‘Huh. Good pet.’ She licked his blood off of her fingers. She then turned and spoke to the other vampires. ‘To Styria!’

Hector crumpled to the ground.

He was no longer so naive as to imagine he’d just be left there. His chain was grabbed and he was hauled up to his feet. He was dragged across to Carmilla’s horse and then tied to it. Was this really what he’d considered humane treatment; what he’d been willing to subject other humans to? He was beginning to wonder why.

It was all he could do to stumble along behind them.

***

The smell of the blood (more than just Hector’s) had concealed something from the noses of Carmilla and her vampire cohort. A set of human eyes had watched the whole thing in mute horror. The boy’s mother had locked him in the cellar for safety before she’d run out looking for her husband.

There was a small bar window near the cellar roof, though. The boy, after waking to find his mother still gone had worked his way up there. He was trapped down here but he could still see out to what happened on the surface when the sun went down. Long after the vampires left with their hostage, he was still frozen.

Then a new person entered the area.

This person was also a vampire – of a sort. Due to the fact that the new person’s vampirism did not revolve around blood, he was not distracted by the scent of it. Because of what his vampirism did focus on, he noticed the boy’s presence instantly. He walked past the verandah where Hector had been beaten, glancing at the blood splatters with passing curiousity, and then walked over to the small window.

Crouching down, he peered in and met the boy’s eyes. ‘Hello, sonny,’ he said in an odd accent. ‘You just hang on a moment and I’ll have you right out.’

The man straightened up and with the sound of wood tearing, it wasn’t long until fresh air entered the cellar. The boy looked up in alarm, his throat tightening in fear.

‘No, no,’ the man said. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to help.’ The stranger reached in and, as gentle as his own father when the boy was ill, the strange man lifted him off of the stack of crates he’d used to get up here. ‘There. Are you all right, now?’

The boy promptly burst into tears.


	30. Setting Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for our protagonists to go their separate ways.

**Belmont Estate**  
Alucard watched as Belmont and Yvette packed up the wagon.

Sypha took his hands. ‘Be well, my friend.’

He looked up at her and smiled. ‘You too. Don’t let those idiots get you into too much trouble.’

‘Never,’ she said.

‘You doofus!’ Yvette suddenly exclaimed with a laugh, throwing one of the bags at Trevor. Sypha and Alucard looked. Trevor caught it and threw it back. Yvette dodged.

Sypha chuckled. ‘Well...maybe just enough trouble.’

‘Just enough.’ Alucard went over as Trevor and Sypha climbed up onto the seat. Yvette hung back to look through to say good bye to him.

Trevor smiled and gave him a wave – or what passed as one for him. Alucard smirked and flipped him off. Yvette laughed. Trevor chuckled.

‘Ah. Fuck you.’

Sypha moved the reins and Alucard watched them go. Yvette stepped back and looked back at him. She’d told him that she’d send someone to check up on him in a few days – make sure he was all right. She nodded her goodbye to him. Trevor, meanwhile, leaned forward and waved goodbye again.

Alucard stood there and watched them go. He waited until they turned the corner and he couldn’t see them anymore. Then he turned and walked into his father’s old castle. It was strange...how empty it was. Even as a child, there’d always been people in it. His father...his mother...the guard...servants.

Now, it was void of all of these.

***

Yvette sat in the back of the wagon. They were driving her back home so she could stock up and head out east before they went on their way. It was better this way, honestly. And, if Yvette could turn the situation to her family’s advantage in some way...well, she’d never been above sneaky tricks.

Yvette just opened a book and pretended not to notice the way Sypha was curled up to Trevor’s side. And how Trevor rested his head back, content in a way she’d never seen before.

‘Belnades and Belmont,’ Sypha suddenly said. ‘That sounds quite good, doesn’t it?’

‘Not bad,’ Trevor remarked idly.

Sypha repeated it. ‘Belnades and Belmont. For when I tell the story – for the legend.’

‘Wait,’ Trevor said. ‘I don’t get first billing?’

‘Of course not.’ Sypha quickly handed the reins over. ‘You’re the one driving the horse!’

Instead of getting annoyed, Trevor just snorted in amusement. ‘Is this what I’ve got to look forward to in life?’

‘Yes.’ She lowered her voice intimately enough for Yvette to feel a bit uncomfortable watching. ‘Forever.’

Yvette was tempted to tell them to get a room. But she bit her tongue. She looked back down at her book and refocused on it. There were several good things that’d come from this little adventure, the least of which was hope for the future of the Belmont clan. By now she was just counting the days until those two brought a new generation of Belmont demon hunters into the world.

_Ha! Imagine if their daughter was the next Belmont Slayer._

***

Despite feeling strange about it, Alucard sat down in his father’s chair.

He was unsure if the spectre of his father he’d seen before was in his mind, or something to think about later – once he’d had the chance to grieve properly.

_‘Is this how the castle felt to you,’_ he’d already wondered, _‘before my mother first arrived at your door?’_

He’d already propped his mother’s portrait back up and looked at the distance mirror shards when he’d come in. Now, he sat and looked around. Even now, when he was fully grown, the chair felt much too big. He leaned forward in the chair and looked around. Many a time he’d peered into this room to see his father sitting in this very chair.

Before...

Before they’d been a happy family, despite being made up of a vampire and a human and a dhampir. They were a family. During his short childhood, he’d been quick to learn and had loved to play tag with his mother, often drastically slowing down his speed to give her hope of catching him.

The thought of it all made it finally sink in.

Alucard finally, after a full year of wishing and needing to do so, broke down crying for the family he lost.

***

Reudi landed on the edge of the clearing.

He stared up at the impressive structure that stood where the Belmont Home once did. This had been Dracula’s castle. His parents had told him all about the vampire, but he’d never actually met him. However, it had been peculiar to learn that this vampire who had been so very powerful had fathered someone like him.

His mother had sent him here, while she went tracking one of the forgemasters. His father had headed to Braila to try and find the other one.

Of course, Reudi couldn’t even imagine what Alucard was going through. Reudi’s mother had never died. His father had never gone insane. His father had never been particularly homicidal, full stop. Of course, his father was a completely different species of vampire. His father did not need to kill to feed.

Reudi smiled to himself at the thought as he walked up to the castle and stepped inside.

As he walked, his footfalls echoed. ‘Alucard?’ he called. ‘Alucard, my name’s Reudi. I’m the one Yvette sent.’

A blonde boy – probably not even twenty yet – appeared at the top of the stairs. It would be hard for a human to see, but he’d clearly been crying very recently. Reudi did not draw attention to it though. He stopped where he was and allowed the younger dhampir to get a good look at him, see who and what he was.

‘Oh, yes,’ Alucard said. ‘You’re the one who trained Belmont.’

Reudi smirked. ‘And he was always quite annoyed at my refusal to come at him at full strength.’

Alucard gave a broken sort of smirk.

Yvette had been right to be worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it for Arc 1.
> 
> I'm going to wait until Season 4 comes out on Netflix before I start posting Arc 2 because I want to see what approach the show is taking before I decide what to do after the Season 3 part of this story.

**Author's Note:**

> I should also like it known that, prior to finding the series, I didn't know this game series existed. My family more played Kane, BloodRayne, and the 1980s version of I Am Sam in this genre.


End file.
